by K. A Knight
Shaking my head, I force myself to concentrate on my work, and before I know it, hours have passed. Blinking in confusion at the time on my screen, I groan when I realise I forgot to eat again.
I always do this. Time seems to go by so fast when I’m working, and Nadia will kill me if she realises I didn’t eat. I’m surprised she hasn’t text me, but then again, I don’t know where my phone is. I have an annoying habit of losing it somewhere in my apartment.
Groaning, I swivel in my chair, feeling like a villain in a movie. All I need now is a cat to stroke dramatically. Untangling myself from the leather, I pad over to my music, turning it up as I shiver.
I should really put on pants, but something I found out quickly was that I enjoyed the freeness that comes with my own space, especially not having to wear pants all the time.
Free the vagina, I say.
Air is care.
Hitting the button on the kettle, I grab a blue mug before hesitating and grabbing a yellow one instead, and stick a green tea bag in it. Drumming my fingers on the counter, I debate what to have for dinner. I can’t order takeaway again, I’ve started to put on weight from eating it so much.
I have stuff in to make a salad, but really…who wants a salad? I could make pasta or pizza. The kettle clicks off at the same time someone knocks on the door. Frowning over my shoulder, I wonder who it could be. Nadia is out on a date, Josh is at work…the only people who can get in have keys. It could be a neighbour, I bet that’s who it is.
Shaking my head, I quickly pour the tea, leaving it to steep as I pad over and open the door with the chain in place. I peek out and freeze, my heart skipping a beat at the man standing on the other side.
Max.
Slamming it shut, my eyes widen as I debate not opening it again, but before I know it, I’ve thrown the lock open and thrust the door wide, staring at the man waiting there for me, the man who still holds my heart.
Even after all this time, after all we have been through, he still sends my heart into overdrive, my pussy clenching in desire simply from seeing him.
He takes in my lack of pants, the long t-shirt with the faded Killers’ band logo on it, my curly hair hanging unkempt over my shoulders, and my clean, makeup free face, and swallows. I stare, I can’t help it, taking stock of him like he did me.
His hands are buried in his dark, acid wash jeans, which are tucked into big biker boots. A black t-shirt stretches across his wide chest, showing me the muscles there. His hair is loose and hanging about his shoulders, tucked haphazardly behind his ears. His blue eyes are locked on my face with his usual, crazy intensity. His beard is still rough and untamed, just like him.
He looks the same and for some reason that settles me a little bit. The silence stretches, both of us not knowing what to say, just staring at each other, the space between us tense with memories, but are we just strangers now?
“Hi, what are you doing here?” I blurt, before slamming my mouth shut and watching as he tugs nervously at his beard, seeming to compose himself. His gaze drops to my legs once more before he closes his eyes and then flickers them back open like he can’t bear not looking at me.
“I couldn’t stay away any longer, I tried, and I just couldn’t, I’m sorry. I’m done missing you, I’m done with this distance and not knowing, and I’m hoping you feel the same way—”
“Max,” I start, crossing my arms across my chest to protect myself from his words, but he shakes his head, determined, stepping closer, and I don’t step back.
“I have a whole speech planned, so please listen, baby,” he begs, and when I nod, he takes a deep breath and launches into it, his words almost fast and practiced.
“You said we didn’t know each other anymore. That you didn’t know me, so let’s rectify that. Hi, I’m Max Hunt. I served in the military, special forces, now I work for a secret organisation called the Clergy where I sometimes have to kill people.”
I gasp in shock, my hands falling to my sides. Not because of what he admitted, I already knew that—well, some of it—but the fact he’s saying it so blatantly, so loudly in the middle of my hallway. My mouth drops open as I look behind him at the thankfully empty corridor. Anyone could be listening, and I don’t think Donald would like his secrets being shared.
“Max!” I protest, but he ignores me and keeps going, so I grab him and drag him inside, shutting the door behind him. The space between us closes and I suck in his scent, my eyes tracing up his chest and to his face. He swallows hard, his voice turning raspy at our proximity.
“I have a dog named after my dead best friend, Milo. I love the little monster even though I pretend not to. I used to stalk my next door neighbour, I became obsessed with her, wanting to keep her safe, but it wasn’t just that, even if I wished it was. I loved watching her, she lit up my days, it was how I kept myself away from her, but then she came crashing into my life…and I’m in love with her. In love with this crazy, brilliant, beautiful woman. I have been for a long time and I miss her, desperately. I miss her laugh, her smile, the way she brightened a room whenever she was there. I miss our talks and the way she made me want to be a better man. I miss everything about her, I find myself reaching for her every day, turning to tell her something only to find she isn’t there, and it kills me all over again. I would take another bullet, hell, ten of them if it meant that she was by my side again.”
I suck in a breath, my eyes watering as he carries on, tilting his head down to me, his eyes begging me for forgiveness.
“I was a fool for letting you go, Scarlett, I should have fought harder. But I promise you this, for the rest of our lives, I will never let you go again, I’ll always fight for you, for us…even when you can’t or won’t, if you’ll have me back, if you love me the way I love you. So deeply. So completely that I’m lost without you,” he whispers and waits, but I don’t know what to say. My mouth is sealed shut on all the words I want to spew at him. “Do you...do you still love me, Scarlett?” he asks desperately, when I still don’t speak.
Usually, I’m the one talking and he’s lost for words, but it’s the other way around, and I watch the panic on his face, watch it take hold as he shuts down, his heart breaking again before me when I don’t say yes. I can’t. But of course I do.
I love this man more than I love my freedom.
More than I love my future.
I would give it all up for him, to be his captive again, the focus of his obsession.
He starts to turn away from me, but I let out a noise, jumping straight at him. He catches me without thought and I turn his face to me, searching his eyes. “Yes, fuck, yes, I do. Always have, always will. I missed you so much, please don’t let me go again,” I whisper, before I slam my lips to his.
“Never,” he promises, before kissing me back.
We stumble backwards, both of us not wanting to let each other go to even see where we’re going. He somehow finds his way to the sofa and drops us both on it. I part my thighs and he falls between them, his mouth devouring mine as I slip my tongue into his mouth, desperately twisting the long strands of his hair, fisting them and dragging him closer so no space is left between us.
This feels right, like two pieces clicking back together again—everything else, all the worries, the secrets, and the past disappear with one sweep of his tongue. All that matters is that he stays here forever. Letting go of his hair, I moan into his mouth as I trace my hands down his back and he grunts, pressing harder into my mouth, almost catching my lips on his teeth as I reach the bottom of his shirt and start to drag it up, stroking his muscled back as I go.
Dragging the tips of my nails up his spine, I grin into his mouth when he shivers against me, gasping against my lips and pulling back slightly, both of us panting and not wanting to move away from each other as we breathe in each other’s air.
“I missed you so fucking much, baby girl,” he whispers, pushing some stray hair behind my ear.
“I missed you,” I whisper back, looking betw
een his eyes, gripping him to me like he might disappear.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I urge him back to me, desperation clawing at my insides, but he resists, just stroking my cheek as his eyes run down my face, landing on my lips. He kisses me softly, almost gently, taking his time and savouring me.
When he pulls away again, I lick my lips. “Max, I want you,” I tell him, searching his eyes. They are blown wide with arousal and I can feel his hard length pressed against my panties, but still he doesn’t make a move.
“Baby.” He closes his eyes as if he’s in pain and pulls back from me before sitting up on the edge of the sofa. I scramble to my knees and face him with a frown. He takes a look at my face and smiles. “I want you more than anything, but I don’t want to rush this. You said you wanted to know me, so let’s do that. I didn’t come here to fuck you, I came here to tell you everything. It’s been a month, baby, four fucking weeks, I want to know everything,” he tells me, leaning closer, his arm crossing over my leg so he’s still touching me.
“Let me get this straight…you’re cockblocking us?” I question, my eyebrow rising, and he barks out a laugh.
“I guess I am.” He nods and I groan, flopping back on the sofa.
“You pussy tease,” I whine, and he laughs again, leaning over me and dropping a kiss on my forehead.
“I want to do this right this time, baby girl, so there are no mistakes or regrets. Let me make us a drink. Have you eaten?” he inquires, and when I wince, he shakes his head. “Should have figured,” he mumbles, before dropping another kiss on my head and sitting up.
I watch him stand and pad to my kitchen and something hits me, making me jump up and follow after him as he reaches the cabinets, pulls down a yellow mug, and adds it to the blue one before grabbing another tea bag, placing it inside, and flicking the kettle back on.
He seems comfortable here…really comfortable. I know he bought this place, but he hasn’t been here since I moved in…has he?
“Max?” I call and he turns, his eyebrow raised as he takes me in again, biting down on his bottom lip. “How do you know your way around?”
“Huh?” he replies, his eyes caught on my legs.
“You seem awfully comfortable here,” I tease, leaning against the wall.
“Do I?” he asks, turning back to the kettle as it flicks off and pouring the tea, then adding some sweetener and stirring, purposely not staring at me.
“Max,” I say slowly, and he turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest, and keeping those dark eyes locked on me as his lips quirk up. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with those all-seeing eyes. “No secrets?” I demand.
He tugs on his beard, looking away for a moment before his eyes drag back to mine. “Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you,” he finally says.
I blink. “What? You’ve been watching me again?”
The thought doesn’t bother me as much as it should, instead, it actually relaxes me. It means he still cares a lot, and it also makes me feel safer knowing he was around.
“Not all the time. I stayed away as much as I could, but I had to know you were okay and that you were safe.” He shrugs. “Are you mad?”
“No,” I admit, and he seems to freeze. “I like it when you watch me.”
He slumps before he pinches his nose. “Don’t fucking encourage me,” he grumbles.
“You love it, now make the fucking tea. The quicker we talk, the quicker we can fuck,” I tease, before sauntering back to the living room. I hear him groan and mutter under his breath as he makes it and brings the mugs to me where I’m sitting on the sofa. He places them carefully on the coffee table, toes off his boots, and sits on the other end of the couch turned towards me.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” I ask.
“You. Tell me everything. What have you been up to? How did the book cover go? How’s the apartment? I want to know everything,” he encourages, and I swallow. Fuck, he’s so goddamn perfect.
So I do. I tell him everything and he listens, asking questions and nodding and laughing along with me. He listens intently, his eyes fully focused on me, and the whole time this tension is building, this need that first started when he knocked on my door. My thighs are tightly shut as I try and ignore my wet pussy and the fact my eyes are running over his body like he’s a piece of cake I want to devour.
When I’m done speaking, he looks at me. “My turn, I want to tell you everything, Scarlett, I need you to trust me and listen to the end. Nothing I say can leave this room,” he says sternly, watching me keenly, and I nod, scooting closer.
“I understand, I’ve pieced together some, but I want to hear it all,” I tell him, and he sighs before reaching out and grabbing my legs, then dropping them in his lap as he starts to massage my feet.
“I figured as much. I just want you to be sure this is what you want. There’s no going back from this,” he warns without looking at me.
“Maximus Hunt, I’m sure. You’re what I want, now tell me. I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I snap, and he grins up at me before his face turns serious.
“I’ve thought about this a lot since you left, and I think you were right. I think I was scared of telling you everything in case you left. It would kill me this time, losing someone else I love, so I held you at a distance as much as I could and that was wrong, I’m so sorry. Part of it was to protect you as well, since what I do isn’t right and clean. I’ll never be the perfect gentlemen you bring home and show to your friends. My work is secret, baby girl, it’s dark, hard, and kept in the shadows, not even half of the government knows who we are and what we do,” he starts, continuing to massage my feet as he speaks. I listen, compiling every word and noting what questions to ask after he’s done. He’s opening up and I’m nervous about what I’ll find. Can I handle it? I sure as fuck hope so, because I’ve already decided I can’t live without him.
“We are called the Clergy. We are made up of soldiers, government officials, assassins, and others that even I don’t know about. I was recruited when I came back from overseas, they saw what I could do and I accepted. I get to choose the jobs I want. I only do the hard ones. I kill people, Scarlett, I do.”
I suck in a breath and he looks at me, so I nod for him to continue. I guess the way he said it so bluntly was what shocked me.
“Not always. Sometimes I pick up people and drop them off. Some need bodyguards, others are criminals and I don’t ask what they do with them. Others I’m asked to hunt, the contracts are sent with stipulations. Some are bad guys, Scarlett. Like the other week, we took down a sex trafficking ring and sent the girls home to get help. Some are ransomers who I don’t know if they’re good or bad. Last week it was a businessman, he pissed off the wrong guy, he had kids. I still did it, it’s my job. It’s messy, bloody, and so fucking lonely,” he admits, and I lean up, covering his hand with mine. “I never saw what I was doing as wrong. I don’t enjoy it, but I’m good at it—no, that’s a lie. I enjoy the hunt, I enjoy the power, but I don’t enjoy killing. Never did, but I still do it, and there’s no getting out unless it’s in a casket. It doesn’t make for a good relationship.”
“We can be the exception,” I interject, and he looks up at me. “You’re not getting away from me again, Max. I don’t care what you do, I should, but I honestly don’t. I’ve used your skills, relied on you to keep me, us, safe. I can handle it,” I assure him, and he stares deeply into my eyes for a moment.
“That’s about it, oh, and Donald knows about you,” he admits with a wince and I nod.
“I know, I met him.” He looks at me angrily and I grin. “I’ll tell you later, but anything else?”
“Oh, I, erm, contacted Milo’s mum. We have been talking again, getting to know each other. She wants me to visit and she wants to meet you,” he divulges, and I grin.
“That’s great, Max. I’m so happy for you, you really seem to be moving on.” I twine our hands and he looks down at
them.
“No, I’m just learning that sometimes, life is what you make it. I want a good life for me, for us.” He plays with my hands as he speaks so he doesn’t see me biting my lip, his rough touch only making me want to jump him more.
I understand why we needed to talk, and I do feel like I know him better now, it’s what I asked for, but fucking hell, if he doesn’t fuck me soon, I’m going to explode from blue balls.
Deciding to hell with it, I wait for him to look at me again and then I throw myself at him, sending us tumbling back on the sofa as I smash my lips urgently to his.
“I’m done waiting,” I tell him, before swooping back down with my lips.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Maximus
Groaning into her mouth, I fall backwards on the sofa, wrapping my arms around her as she claws at my shirt, making me smirk. “Baby girl.”
“Shut up and put your mouth to work,” she demands, and starts kissing down my throat, making my eyes close in pain. Fuck, my cock was hard from the start of our kiss, I’m surprised she didn’t see the tent in my pants. If she carries on like this, I’ll fuck her here right on her sofa.
I’m trying to take this slow so she doesn’t regret it, but with her tongue in my ear, it’s becoming harder and harder to think and remember why I shouldn’t be buried inside her.
“Scarlett,” I murmur, and she lifts her head, those red lips of hers curling up as she stares down at me, her hair a curtain between us and the room.
“Yes, Mr. Hunt?” she teases, her voice low and purring, sending a shiver down my spine as I try to keep my hands off her.
“Don’t,” I warn with narrowed eyes. “I’m trying to be good here.”
“Fuck being good, I’d rather be bad,” she counters, her hands pushing up my shirt as she drags her nails down my abs, making me grunt and push into her touch. She leans down then, her ruby lips almost touching mine as she whispers, “Will you be bad with me, Mr. Hunt?”
