His hand lands on my hip, the heat a brand through my jeans. “I’d be happy to demonstrate.”
“Feel free, but it will be solo. Hope you enjoy the sight of your own hand.”
Heat blooms on my cheeks at the thought.Clever, Eleanor, so freaking clever.Now I’ll picture him masturbating in the middle of his giant bed while he watches himself. What will he think about while he does?
I spin on my heel and hightail it out of the room, through the walk-in closet, and into my own, less provocative, bedroom. Hunter’s warm chuckle echoes after me, and it flips something low in my stomach. Must be all the high carb, trans fat laden snacks we ate on the journey. That’s what it is.
Hunter doesn’t follow me, but I hear him moving around in his room as he unpacks and replaces items in his bathroom. I undo my suitcase full of worn clothing and underwear. Ugh, I didn’t really think or plan this well. I don’t even have anything decent to sleep in. I move ordering clothing to the top of my to-do list. I glance over my shoulder, biting my lip and tapping my fingers against my thigh. I’m not sure how long Hunter is going to keep up this act of heroism, but when he realizes sex isn’t in the cards, he will lose interest in me and my troubles. I’m a job for him with the potential of an added perk, nothing more. I could always retreat to one of my hidden properties, but my heart squeezes at the thought of facing Jonathan alone. I don’tknow why. I’ve always worked like this. I even keep Uncle Steven at arm’s length to ensure his safety and survival, and Jonathan knows his face. My shoulders slump. I guess he knows Hunter’s now too.
A click comes from the main living area, and in a breath, Hunter is in my room with his finger pressed against his lips and a gun at his side. Cold focus calms my nerves as I retrieve my own weapon with a nod. There’s a feminine murmur from behind the door that grows clearer as Hunter inches the gap wider. His shoulders drop with a sigh before flicking the safety on the gun and shoving it in the waistband of his jeans.
“Hunter?” a melodic voice rings out. “I got your message and came over straight away.”
“You issued a booty call from my car? Classy,” I mutter. Guess that answers my question on how serious he is about pursuing me.
He snorts as he flings open the bedroom door, grabs my hand, and yanks me down the hallway into the great room. I tug on his hold.
“That’s right! Daddy’s home early,” she sing-songs.
Daddy? Is that a kink, or is Hunter about to introduce me to his love child? I glare at the beast dragging me down the hall. I have no idea what’s worse.
A stunning young woman with long straight brown hair glances up at us. She raises a perfectly plucked brow in my direction.
“Hi.” She beams as she steps out from behind the couch and lets go of something. Tapping echoes on the wooden floor as a bundle of black and white fluff barrels toward Hunter. Shit! Not a child, but something so much worse. A dog. Fear and panic blaze through me, my legs stiff as time seems to move in slow motion.
His hand grips mine tighter as he senses my resistance. I yank harder, planning the best way to barricade myself inside my bedroom.
“Eleanor, meet Charlie,” Hunter says with a soft, warm, affectionate voice. Still holding my hand, he drops to his knees as Charlie, the bloodthirsty, sharp-toothed beast, wiggles his body into Hunter’s lap and slams his paws on his shoulders.
“He’s attacking you,” I squeak as bile rises in my throat.
“Charlie?” The young woman laughs. “With licks and kisses maybe, but that pooch has never even growled in anger.”
With one arm wrapped under Charlie’s butt, Hunter stands and turns to me.
“Hey. Look at me.” Is he kidding? Take my eyes off the beast? “Eleanor, please look at me.” I tear my gaze free and focus on Hunter. His eyes soften. “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you.”
My hand slips free, and I take a step backward. “He’s very mobile,” I settle on as Charlie wiggles in Hunter’s arms and locks eyes with me. Green. I have never seen a dog with green eyes. They are wide with excitement as he takes me in. Hunter drops back to the ground and deepens his voice.
“Charlie, sit,” he instructs. The beast plonks his ass on the floor, one hind leg poking out at the side like it’s too big for his body. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, disproportionately long for his size.
“Charlie is a two-year-old English cocker spaniel. He’s loving and caring, but crazy. He hasn’t outgrown his puppy energy yet, but he isn’t going to hurt you.”
I swallow against the tightness in my throat, trying to separate my childhood experience from the wide-eyed excitement filling Charlie. But all I can see is his eagerness to rip out my throat.Fear is not rational,I remind myself. It comes from an inherent need to survive, to avoid pain and conflict. And it’s protected me until now.
“I’ll leave his bag here,” the pretty girl says, but I don’t take my eyes off Charlie. “Dad says to give him a call as soon as you are settled.” The door snicks shut behind her.
Wait. The dog lives here? With Hunter? Oh no. No. Nope. Not happening.
“Come,” Hunter coaxes as he stretches out a hand to me.
A nervous laugh escapes my lips. “Hate to break it to you, but women don’t orgasm on the spot simply because you command it.”
He rolls his eyes. “Come here, Eleanor.”
Charlie’s tail thumps against the floor in a quick excited beat, jolting my nerves. Hunter furrows his brow and tilts his head. “He wants to meet you.”
“More like eat me,” I mumble.
