The words are on the tip of my tongue.I am not worth it.The pain. The nightmares. The scars. They will scare him off eventually. He might begin with the best of intentions until he peels back the layer of confidence I wear like a shroud. Underneath, I’m still the girl running through the woods with searing pain blazing her hip as she leaves her heart in tatters next to her mother’s bloody body. Men don’t want that. Nobody wants that.
He blows out a breath. “It’s okay. Run if you need to. You can’t hide forever.”
I know he doesn’t mean from this home. He’s talking about the feelings he’s trying to stir between us. I don’t have room for them. I can’t, or I’ll waver in my goal. Caring for someone with the path I’m on will get them killed. I need to do something to refocus his attention from picking apart my psyche.
A slow wicked smile tugs at my lips, and his eyes widen as I undo the two buttons shielding my breasts, running my fingers down the center of the shirt.
“Eleanor,” he chokes.
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth, torn between teasing him with a verbal description of what he’s missing and showing him. I’m not good with dirty talk, so I select option two, and widen the shirt opening. His jaw drops as he takes in the piercings—horizontal bars with rose-gold hoops, and a small diamond dangling from the bottoms. He blinks. For once, I’ve completely stumped him. My smirk widens as power I’ve never felt before fills me. That’s oddly satisfying.
“You have enough material now for your solo exploits?” I taunt.
He reluctantly pulls his gaze from my breasts, and when his eyes meet mine, the pupils are blown, the black almost swallowing his gray irises.
I release the shirt, letting it fall over my chest. He clenches his hands at his sides, rocking forward on his toes. “I would give anything to feel that metal with my tongue, Eleanor. To tug them between my teeth, finding the perfect pressure to make you walk the line between pain and pleasure. To hear you whimper in surrender and need. Anything.”
I swallow. Most men are fascinated with them but have zero clue how to use them to create any pleasure. They either flick the metal like it’s going to make me orgasm, or they pull too hard. Both do nothing. Then there’s the camp that, while curious, are more terrified of the piercings, like I’m some S&M fantasy they can’t fulfill.
Then there is Hunter. He wants to know how to work them. He wants to make me weak at the knees.
“I should go to bed,” I whisper.
He takes a step toward me. “You should.”
“My own bed,” I clarify, taking a step back.
His lips twitch as he takes another step closer. “That works too.”
“Alone.”
“I thought we covered that alone gets the job done but doesn’t make you see stars. Don’t you want to see stars, Eleanor? They’re breathtaking.”
“I’m good.”
I spin on my heel and make a mad dash through the closet, the sound of his laughter chasing me. I close the door and breathe a frustrated sigh of relief. This is night one. One, and he’s already broken down my walls far more than anyone else.I’ll have to shore up my defenses each and every night and keep myself sated, so I am not tempted by the promise of oblivion in his eyes. Glancing at my bedside drawer, I debate if I’m going to need something stronger than I’ve selected for tonight. I don’t doubt it. I gulp, leaning against the only defense I have against the man.
Hunter King would wreck me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eleanor
Pink to make the Hunter wink.
There is movement around the apartment for the next hour, and I’m assuming he’s clearing the dishes, which I feel bad about given he cooked the food. That should be my job, but I can’t bring myself to face him after flashing my bare breasts. I bury my face in my hands, listening to the sounds of Hunter living in his home. I’m an idiot. How is this part of the grand plan to seem boring and uninteresting? Why is he able to push me into doing stupid shit? Ugh, I need to go and get a drink to take my meds. I wait until the apartment falls quiet before I risk venturing into the kitchen. There’s no sign of Charlie, so I can only assume he’s with Hunter in his bedroom.Little victories, Eleanor.The surfaces are spotless, and there’s zero sign of dinner. I was right, he’s tidied up. I am a terrible house guest. The dryer is making a low rumbling noise, and when I check the washer, I realize it’s my clothing.
Son of a bitch.I do not want to like this man, but he is making it tricky. My gaze catches on the fridge where there’s a set ofmagnetic letters attached to the door. I noticed them earlier, but they were a jumble of nonsense. Now they’ve been rearranged.
Ellie, eat the pie and hydrate. It helps.
“Helps with what?” I mutter as I lift the foil, the smell of cooked peaches and pastry wafting under my nose and making my mouth water. I rearrange the letters with a message of my own before retreating with the pie and bottled water into my room. I eye the two doors, biting my lip. I only have one chair. I can either shove it under the closet door or the hallway one. If Hunter was to come and investigate, he would go through the closet, right? Get distracted on his way to the bathroom? I shove the chair under the handle and decide only strangers would come through the main door. If an unknown assailant appears, I’ll shoot them. Simple.
Opening my laptop, I pull up the surveillance system strewn around this town I hacked into earlier. Except they are all black. Every. Single. Camera. I glance out the window. It’s dark, but they aren’t lacking streetlights. There must be something wrong with the feed. I hit refresh, and a message popup appears. My eyebrows shoot up.
Peek-a-boo, Ghost. Welcome to our little town. While you are here, please follow the rules. No sneaky peeking in our private areas. You need to ask sweetly first. C.
“What in the actual fuck? Who the hell is C?”
