Icy fingers sweep my spine. Christopher? It doesn’t sound like him, but that could be a ploy. Also, tracking me here this quickly? Even I would struggle with that, since Hunter isnot a known associate. I shove more pie in my mouth and start tracking the message, only to meet a firewall. Never met a wall I couldn’t break yet. I crack my knuckles and begin dismantling C’s protection, coming up against some very smart, bespoke protection. Adrenaline buzzes through my veins at the challenge, and I lose a few hours dedicated to the puzzle. I make some headway and enjoy the little pop ups of chastisement from C. They know I’m on their tail, and they aren’t hiding it.
My fork hits ceramic, and I glance at the now empty plate. Damn, that’s good pie. I contemplate grabbing another piece, but the alarm on my phone dings, reminding me it’s now two a.m. and I need to go to sleep. It’s one of Gail’s tasks; to have a period of six hours protected time to sleep. I do well to get four hours, but, like a good patient, I at least turn off my technology for that length of time. I grab my meds and swallow them alongside some water.
Tomorrow, I need to track Christopher’s movements as well as Jonathan’s. Probably scan the dark web for chatter about myself. I also need to check if the conference Jonathan is heading up is moving ahead. Not all his members are tied to the skin trade. Many of them are prominent rich folks who fund his criminal underbelly. They are suckered in through his wellness group with promises of clarity and direction. A problem for too many affluent members of society is remaining grounded and connected to society. They may have fallen to the lure of drugs and alcohol, or perhaps they aren’t able to maintain friendships and relationships due to the fact they believe everyone is after their cash. On the flip side, some of them believe their wealth makes them above the law, elevating them beyond social norms. Jonathan, like many cult leaders, is able to capitalize on those wants and needs, using his charisma to charm them into his trap.
He uses well-known and popular celebrities to give his organization the illusion of being legitimate, coveted, and revered. He surrounds himself with these people to ward off the authorities and escape the clutches of the law. I’ve long since given up spoon-feeding the feds evidence of his crimes. No, I need to dismantle this hellhole by slaughtering the devil and leaving the gates of hell open for them to storm the castle. I glance at the barricaded door, silently staring at the warm wood. I need to make it public enough to ensure they don’t try to shove it under the rug.
After pushing my laptop under the bed so it can continue working to keep pressure on the mysterious C’s firewall, I turn on the lamp and jump out of bed to turn off the main light. Sleeping in the dark in a strange environment is beyond what I can cope with. No need to invite monsters to creep in the shadows.
I peel back the comforter and slide between the silky soft sheets with a sigh. I was right; he doesn’t skimp on the quality, and I have a weakness for expensive bedding. It is everything when you struggle to sleep. Itchy blankets and hot sheets are the worst. I turn over the last forty-eight hours of my life. How did I go from a lackluster encounter with a guy in Cali, to a terrifying reunion with my brother and the man responsible for my nightmares, to Hunter fucking King coming to save me?
I turn over with a huff. I’m fake dating Hunter King for the sake of remaining in a town I don’t actually want to be in. Everything that is Hunter King is against my better judgment. In my head, I’ve elevated him above my normal encounters. It’s the way he moves. Purposeful. Poised. Protective. It’s the things he says. Smart. Sexy. And fuck, the dirty talk. What’s keeping me awake isn’t my other unmemorable encounters. I wish. No, what’s driving away any chance of sleep is the worry he might be able to do all the things he’s promising with those words,those hands, that mouth... and if he can deliver, I might fall for a man never meant to be mine. He is tangled in an organization that values men above women, has rules and stipulations for members to strictly follow. There are clandestine meetings, an undercurrent of secrecy, and arrangements for marriage. It is too close to home. It is blind faith in a leader requiring unquestioning loyalty and devotion. It is everything I despise and work against. Hunter and I can never be. I am my own boss, my own woman, and I will never take instruction from a man. I managed it for a short time in the military, but those instructions made sense. They were backed by logic and reason.
I would infuriate Hunter. But the way he looks at me? Like I am every fantasy he’s ever had come to life? That is intoxicating.
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down until I feel a sting and taste the sharp tang of copper. Rolling onto my back, I stare at the gauzy drapes hanging overhead before closing my eyes and starting the process of meditation that, on occasion, works. I tense and release my toes before I roll my feet, scrunch them up, and relax them. Everything is going swimmingly until I get to my stomach. It twists deep and low, and a familiar emptiness begins. My mind conjures Hunter and his big, muscular,could throw me around the bedroom with easebody. His scent is all over me. Teasing me. Enticing me. My eyes fly open. It has to be the shirt. I fling the covers back, unbuttoning the cotton before ripping it off and dropping it on the floor next to the bed. I lay back and curl my hand under my pillow. Oh.
He’s not going to walk in unannounced at two a.m., right? I need to deal with this tension, or I will never be able to relax and sleep. Keeping myself sated will help negate the attraction tugging me toward Hunter. It’s self-preservation. I wrap my fingers around my trusty friend while Hunter’s words play in my mind.Predictable. Boring. Barely scratching the itch.
I can be spontaneous, change it up. Leaning over the side, I drag open the bottom drawer and rummage around. Not butt stuff. I haven’t mastered that yet, and I’d need to prep more thoroughly. Not the delicate toys either. They tease and edge but aren’t capable of giving me what I want. There’re the clamps I haven’t had the balls to use but were a free gift. Definitely not something to explore in someone’s guest bedroom. Ah! This will do. I pull out the pink silicone that sucks as well as vibrates and comes with a wireless remote control designed for hands-free play. Definitely the best sex toy invention of the century. Why it took so long for them to make something that sucks one’s clit, I will never know. Perhaps men were in charge of R&D before this.
I peel off my only pair of clean panties and tuck them under my pillow. I’m not risking losing them to the panty thieves of either the canine or human variety.
I didn’t pack lube, and there’s no way I’m asking Hunter. I’m pretty sure that goes against polite houseguest rules. So I guess I have to work at this a little. I haven’t mastered this particular device fully. I know it feels good, but the sucker can fly me from zero to one hundred in a breath, making me blast past my release. My research informed me I need to be careful to not rush the warm up.
My eyes flutter closed, and this time I don’t shy away from the image of Hunter leaning against the bedpost as I caress my nipples, pulling on the piercings until I hiss. I torture myself by not touching between my legs.Do you see stars?Nobody sees stars when they come. It’s a ridiculous analogy. The only way you see stars is to look up on a cloudless night.
I could prove you wrong,he taunts. My chest flushes as I imagine the deep tone he uses to make my toes curl.
A smile curves my lips as my imagination conjures Hunter watching me, taking notes of how hard and in which directionI pull on the bar. I picture him taking over the other breast, mirroring my movements.
Like this?he whispers in my ear, making me shiver. Heat traces my spine, and my lips part. I fantasize like any hot-blooded woman, but the starring role is never someone I know. Who hasn’t closed their eyes and imagined Jensen Ackles is the one doing the touching?
“Harder,” I groan as I tug more forcefully, making an ache start in my breast and rush down between my legs. I suck in breath. “Yes. There.”
Do you like them being sucked or bitten?
Dear God. “Both.”
Where?
“Everywhere.”
They’ve never really had either of those things done, but I want to experience it all in my mind, where it’s safe. I can almost feel the sweep of his hot tongue grazing my nipple. My core clenches again, and my legs fall open under the blanket, ready for my touch. Greedy for someone else’s. His. This is a dangerous game, but one I’m playing all the same. What is life without a little risk?
Still, I hold off, wanting to prove to myself I am more versatile than having one way to reach my orgasm. The anticipation is both torture and amazing. My thighs tense, and as I finally skim my fingers over my clit, I realize for the first time ever I might actually be able to come twice.
I grab the vibrator.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hunter
Don’t lick it unless invited.
There is nothing like sleeping in your own bed after being on vacation, and there is nothing like sleeping in your bed when your sheets smell of the woman you’ve spent many a night fantasizing over. She’s definitely used my shower gel, but there’s a distinct mixture of something uniquely Eleanor underneath it.
My gaze catches on the mirror William installed as a joke for my thirtieth birthday. Apparently, my lack of women meant I preferred to look at my own pretty face. His words, not mine. He’s wrong though. Bringing a woman into my private space opens myself up to their lofty ideas of becoming some kind of MC princess, with goals of one day being at my side should I take over when William decides he’s had enough. They would be disappointed on all fronts. I am not looking for a steady woman in my life. At least, I wasn’t until a few months ago. And I have no plans to take over.
