I can feel the air leave the room. I start to sway.
“I'm so sorry. I answered when it rang and—”
“You shouldn't have,” I rasp.
“I know.” A tear falls down her cheek. “He was really horrible to you.”
I turn my back to her as blood roars in my head. "I f**ked up... I f**ked it all up... I f**ked up..."
I can sense her coming around to stand in front of me, beside the punching bag, but I've got a hand over my face. “I heard him say something about Priscilla. Is that why you and her are...I mean, is that why you have sex with her? Because of the—”
I whirl on her, cutting her off. “There is no why. There is no why! Where you're concerned, there is no why! Quit asking questions and just GO! Fuck it, Libby! Can't you see I'm trying to protect you!”
“From what?” Her blue eyes blink. “What is going on? Is she trying to frame you, Hunter?”
“I don't know,” I answer finally.
She touches my shoulder and I can hear her sucked in, sobby breath. “Your back...”
I raise my head to look her in the eye. The pity on her face cracks something in me open. I shift my weight, trying to draw a breath. I can't take the pity, so I dip into my reservoir of anger, instead. It makes my tone sharper when I ask, “Did you ever think maybe I like that shit?”
“Do you?”
“What do you think?” I grab her shoulder without thinking about my bloody hands. As soon as I see my stained fingers on her, I feel dizzy. “Do you think I like it?” I rasp.
“I don't know.” Her eyes, on mine, are huge. Her face looks pale and worried. Out of nowhere, guilt slams through me like a train. I should never have brought her to my home, and if she heard that phone call with my dad, she knows way more than she should about an unsafe situation.
Damnit!
I do the only thing I can to say I'm sorry.
*
~ELIZABETH~
Before Hunter kisses me, I really think he's going to throw me out of his house. He's bleeding, upset, radiating anger and frustration, and I'm just...here. Useless. Totally unable to help him. Unwanted, even, if what he said earlier was true.
Then he cups his palm around my head and pulls me close and plants his mouth on mine, and my knees turn to jelly. He hold me against him and kisses me like he's drowning and I'm air.
I kiss him back, returning fire for fire, because he's Hunter, and my body just responds. But my mind is spinning. Someone hit him when he was a kid? Is that why he let Priscilla hurt him? Priscilla is having sex with Governor Carlson? Is that why Cross hates her so much? And Governor Carlson had another mistress killed?”
It dawns on me that Hunter is right. This is some really big shit. Some huge shit, and I don’t know what’s going on. Then Hunter's tongue sweeps through my mouth, and just like that, I forget my worries.
I tug his hair and run my free hand up his hard shoulder. He's shirtless now, here in his gym, and I can feel the line of every muscle. My hand settles over his strong nape as he kisses roughly down my neck and I moan, “Hunter.”
“You're a stubborn...woman...Libby,” he pants as he kisses down my chest and rips my button-up blouse open. His hands tickle behind my back and my bra is off in seconds. My breath is in his mouth as his fingers make quick work of my slacks. He lays me on the bright blue work-out mat and sticks one big forearm inside my slacks, moaning in pleasure when his fingers find their mark. I'm not wearing underwear. I didn't want a panty line.
“Jesus, Libby. This is so damn hot.”
He slides a finger in and I'm clinging to his shoulders as he rocks his hips into my thigh. I can feel his swollen length, and I want it inside me.
“Hunter,” I pant. I want to tell him what I need but I can't find my voice.
*
~HUNTER~
I shouldn't take this any further, but her mouth on mine is so soft, it's like a vindication. Her hands, reaching for my c**k and stroking through my jeans, are so damn tender. I can't resist this woman. I lean down and taste her salty sweetness with my lips and tongue, showing her just how hungry I am.
When she cums, she screams, then pushes herself up on one arm, leaning her forehead against my shoulder. I'm astonished when I realize she's not leaning on me; she's trying to reach past my torso.
“Why are you doing this?” I grate out as she works my zipper.
“I don't know.” She laughs. “I'm crazy, I think. Every time I see you, I...”
“You what.” I grab her chin, because I want to hear this, and I want to see her eyes when she says it.
“Every time I see you I want you,” she whispers. “Ever since I was sixteen.”
“The Porsche?”
She nods, and I kiss her mouth. She kisses me back with all her might. She ends up on top of me, pulling my jeans off like a sexy-crazed nymph. The denim rubs my c**k and I'm at full-mast, pushed painfully into my boxer-briefs. She yanks them off, pops me into her mouth, and I groan. I want to ask her if she's sure, but my ass is rising off the floor and I can't keep from pumping my hips. Her hands are...God. “Yes, there!” She's gliding over my balls and pumping my c**k and licking my head and—
I come fast and hard, pulling out of her mouth only just in time.
She grins, and I push my tired self up to kiss her lips.
Chapter Thirty-Five
~ELIZABETH~
I don't think I've ever seen anything hotter than Hunter's face as he comes. But in the seconds after he finishes, I'm worried again. He grabs a towel off a bench and cleans us up, and then he pulls me to my feet and hands me my clothes—and he's gentle, with his eyes on me as we both dress, clearly concerned about whether I enjoyed myself.
I look into his eyes and tell him, “That was wonderful.”
“Good,” he says. But the little smile he gives me doesn't reach his eyes at all. He looks distracted. Worried, even. Like maybe he regrets what happened. And why wouldn't he, says a little voice inside my head. He told you to leave, Lizzy—and you didn't.
I'm staring at the floor, trying to decide what to do next without making all this ten times more awkward, when he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Want to go upstairs?”
“Of course.”
There's no smile from him, no sign at first that he's relived or happy that I'm still around. But after we step off the elevator onto the main floor, he wraps his arm around my shoulder as we walk toward the staircase. Every time our sides and hips bump, I feel a bolt of lightning jolt my body.
He loosens his grip on me a little as we take the stares, but we're still close. His eyes glide over me. He looks pensive. “I want you to get a shower.”