“Stop.”
“Arms.”
I blink. “What?”
“I’m really good with my hands.”
“I bet you are.”
He reaches for my hand and encases it inside of his. I open my mouth to protest, quickly shutting it when he puts pressure on my palm, and a low moan escapes from inside my throat. He rotates his thumb in firm circles, and my eyes flutter closed. That feels fucking amazing.
The flight attendant stops between us, causing Hunter to release my hand. I stifle a sigh at the loss of contact, then pause as I examine the fact I actually want contact from Hunter. That’s new.
The guy sighs with a faraway look in his eyes. “Aww, what are you two love birds planning in the Windy city?”
I frown at him. Love birds? How did he get that from our interaction?
Hunter smothers a laugh and reaches for my hand again. I stare in disbelief as he grips it tight and brushes his lips against the back. Warm, soft, gorgeous lips. I swallow the uncomfortable and unusual lump in my throat. It must be the shock of seeing my mother’s murderer and my brother. That’s the only logical explanation why I am hyper focused on the location of Hunter’s lips and how they feel.
“We’re heading home. Long weekend in the Florida sunshine.” Hunter shoots me a look.
Right. Better to act like a couple should Christopher come looking for a single woman. At least I ditched the wig and exchanged the bandage dress for comfortable ripped jeans and a T-shirt. I swallow thickly when I remember the way Hunter’s gaze grew hotter against my skin when I emerged from the restroom dressed like this.
“What did you get up to in the sunny state? Disney? Beaches? Space Center?”
Hunter graces the flight attendant with a heart-dropping smile. “I confess to wanting her sole attention on me and me alone. I don’t want to compete with other men, because when she dresses to kill, my girl is lethal. Best to keep her naked and at my mercy.”
The flight attendant sighs like he’s witnessed a proposal. When I dress to kill, I normally achieve it—not naked, but bloody. Perhaps being naked would be preferable as there would be less clean up.
I lean over and graze my lips along Hunter’s cheek before reaching his ear. “Too far, Hunter. Too. Far.”
“I’ll grab you both some snacks to finish off your romantic weekend. Ah, young love.”
The flight attendant can’t be more than a few years older than me. Definitely younger than Hunter. He moves to the front of the plane where they keep the goodies, humming quietly to himself with a small smile on his face. So odd. Hunter fiddles with the screen in front of him, putting on a rerun of a comedy show, without using headphones. Ever the military man, ready for combat. You can’t rob yourself of one of your key senses if you are going to be fully aware of your surroundings. Trust me to catch the attention of a man skilled in the nuances of human behavior.
Objectively, he’s very fucking pretty. Gray eyes, dark hair, a wild strength thrumming under his tanned tattooed skin.His eyelashes would make a runway model weep. But it’s not the outside that is dangerous. It’s his determination, his keen awareness of me, his single-minded focus on his quarry. For a hot minute, when we were brought together to take down Honor’s awful now deceased husband, I considered a rumble in the sheets with him. He wouldn’t be different from anyone else though, and that thought makes me despair. Experience says men who look like Hunter rely on their looks to ensnare a woman. They don’t put any effort into pleasing them because it took no effort to get them. They believe a snap of their nimble fingers can bring about an orgasm.
His persistence in pursuing me is born from the belief that any woman would be smart enough to jump at the opportunity to be with him. He doesn’t know who he’s chasing, though. There are a million women waiting for his attention, women who embody perfection, who don’t bear scars, both physical and mental. Stripped bare, with the horrific story my skin tells, he would be repulsed, and that’s not a rejection I’m interested in receiving. Men like Hunter value flawlessness. I can never live up to that, and Hunter looking at me with disgust would cut too deep.
“Don’t you get stopped by security with your pink friend?” Hunter asks.
I blink, realizing I have been staring at him while I remind myself why I would never let a man, especially one like him, in.
“Occasionally. They are usually more embarrassed than me.” Correction, they are always more embarrassed than me. I don’t blink at the sight of sex toys while most grown men recoil in the face of a vibrator that can do the job they can’t, and do it consistently well.
His lips twitch as the flight attendant returns with a basket full of snacks. A bright pink paper heart lines the back. “We were meant to have some newlyweds onboard, but they were a noshow, so we thought we’d donate their goodie basket to the most romantic couple on board.”
Hunter grins, thanking the flight attendant with a cheeky wink at me.
Save me now.
Three hours later,after too much sugar and fatty carbs, we arrive outside my apartment. I own a penthouse in an affluent neighborhood with restricted access. It’s not about flaunting wealth, it’s about not asking for trouble and valuing privacy when you are a highly sought after and dangerous hacker. It’s about no one raising an eyebrow at the bandwidth you command for a residential property or the various expensive and heavy packages arriving regularly from tech companies. I side-eye Hunter, the only visitor to my apartment I’ve ever had that isn’t bearing takeout or tech. This is my domain, and it makes my skin itch having anyone inside it. I push my key into the door, and Hunter moves in front of me, blocking the entrance to my home.
“What are you doing?” I hiss as I run through six different possible ways to incapacitate the big biker, all of which he can probably see coming.
“I’ll go first, in case they beat us here.”
Oh. Fair. I can handle myself, but I’m no match for the half a dozen men I assume are coming for me, whether under Jonathan or Christopher’s order. I grit my teeth against the need to tell him not to touch anything as he presses the handle down and swings the heavy door open before entering it like I’ve seen military personnel do a thousand times before. I was never on the front line as my skills lie in tech, the ability to make senseof mass information, and forming plans. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t witness how a highly skilled team covers an unknown room with methodical skill and precision to ensure the safety of the group.
