Blindsight: The Series (Complete Erotic Suspense STANDALONE) (19 page)

“That was what JW and I argued about. I wanted to keep you with me, play it off that you just weren’t there when Brant got home, but JW insisted.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if reliving the argument. “That was the deal,” he said. “I bring you into this, you stay out of harm’s away as long as everything stays status quo.” Dark green eyes found mine. “But we’re anything but status quo.” His mouth lifted in amusement. “I don’t know how it all went down, I just had to hope you would open the door.” He looked up into my eyes then with unspoken words. “I knew you would.” He wrapped my fingers up in his own.

“How do you know he’s not…de-dead? How can you trust JW?” I shook my head as tremors quaked my hands.

Hunter pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through a few screens before turning it toward me. A bold heading on the Chicago Tribune site read
FBI Raids Home on East Side.

My eyes widened as I looked in horror at a picture of my husband
―
head down and wrists tied behind his back
―
being led down our front steps by men in navy coats with vibrant letters emblazoned in gold.

“I thought JW was after Brant? The
FBI
?” I lowered my voice, my eyes searching his for more answers.

His jaw hardened then and his hands went to my arms, rubbing vigorously as if to generate heat, except I wasn’t cold. I was hot, on fire, blazing with adrenaline and questions. “FBI got to him first.” Hunter shrugged and stood with swift grace. “What do you want to eat?” He was off and rifling through the fridge again. I stood from my chair and threw off the blanket he’d artfully kidnapped me in and stalked into the kitchen.

“We have so much more to talk about.” I stood behind him as he pulled vegetables from the fridge.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Princess. We have nothing at all to talk about.” He pulled a strainer from the cupboard, and it didn’t escape my notice that he was quite comfortable here, obviously a frequent visitor. And the fridge was stocked
―
he’d prepared for this night.

“How were you there? At the right time?” The shaking in my voice radiated down to my fingertips.

Hunter’s eyes cut to me and the knife in his hands slowed. I stood rooted, waiting for his words, uncomfortable with his silence, terrified by his gaze. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” His jaw ticked and then he was back to chopping vegetables again. “It’s how I make a living. Photography doesn’t pay for everything,” he huffed under his breath, then continued. “I knew when Brant bought a flight home, of course I knew the FBI was already onto him. Timing, Princess.” Hunter flashed me a sarcastic wink.

“But won’t the FBI want me for questioning? Are they looking for me?” I shrieked, feeling fear choke out reason.

“It’s been handled. There isn’t a thing more to be said. We let the cards fall as they may.” He pulled a bottle of wine from the cupboard and blew a cloud of dust off the label. “Looks old, bet it’s good.” He was rummaging through a drawer and just like that put an end to all conversation.

I grudgingly took the generous glass of wine he passed me and sighed. “How can you be so calm? My stomach is in knots.”

“I’ve learned the art of patience,” he said before he put his wine glass down and pulled me into his arms. “All the hard work is done, the plan’s in place. I’ve got it all handled. While you were sleeping,” he kissed me sweetly on the forehead, “I was planning.”

“Hunter, how can you
―
”

“Listen, Princess, I’ve been doing this a long time, and the hardest thing to cultivate is patience. You can learn a skill, grow intelligence, observe your ass off, but you need patience to see a plan through. You’re gonna need to work on that.” He ticked my nose with the pad of his finger before he turned to pull a skillet from a rack and placed it on the stovetop.

I took a deep breath as my brain whirred with confusion. How could I possibly sit up in this cabin in the Wisconsin woods and cultivate patience? Did he think I was fucking Buddha? My husband was under investigation by the FBI for embezzlement with one of the greatest thugs in recent Chicago history. And if Brant was locked up, where did that leave…

“Hunter?”

He turned, arching an eyebrow as he began tossing vegetables and oil in the pan.

“What happened to JW tonight?”

fourteen

I BURROWED INTO THE blanket draped over my shoulders as I stared out at the opposite shoreline of the dark, rippling lake lapping at my toes. Behind me stood the cabin and Hunter, set up at the kitchen table with his laptop.

I didn’t always know what he was doing on it. At first I’d assumed editing photos, but knowing how extensive his knowledge ran of surveillance and his ability to access virtually any top secret file, I suspected he was up to much more.

My eyes turned out to the deep blue lake splitting the evergreens. I felt suddenly hollow, scared for Brant and myself. Scared of when the FBI did finally question me that they’d link me to anything. My hands twisted in my lap as my thoughts suddenly shifted to my phone and the lure of the headlines Hunter had mentioned. My fingers itched to Google my name to find out what they were saying. There was no evidence I’d been involved at all. And they couldn’t possibly think I’d run off with the money, could they? I tried to form the words to ask Hunter about all my worst fears but saw his concentration lost in his screen. I wanted the creative Hunter back. The one that smiled recklessly and dragged me into the street at three am to dance and eat spicy food. The Hunter that made my life pulse with passion and love.

With my hands twisted together, I sighed, a genuine smile lifting my lips as I suddenly felt the light at the end of the tunnel. Hunter had taken my life by an unexpected storm but if we could see it through to the end, I would fight for that light that I saw glimmering no matter how far or how dark the tunnel. Hunter was worth it. Looking in his eyes, I knew the answer was always that Hunter was worth it.

"Need a body to keep you warm?" His smooth voice hummed and my eyes closed as I inhaled the familiar smoky scent of him.

"I’m fine," I said without thinking much beyond that. I was too lost in my own churning anxiety.

I felt his heavy arms curl around my waist and unlock my crossed arms. "I don’t like when you turn away from me." His growl warmed my insides. "Something on your mind, Princess?" he asked as his palms dipped below my waist and teased my silk panties.

“I just keep thinking I wasn’t in danger before I met you,” I said.

“That’s a lie.” His fiery eyes cut to me. “That’s a lie and you fucking know it. Imagine what it would have looked like if you hadn’t met me. Imagine if you would have opened the door to someone else tonight. Maybe JW would have come looking for you first, shown up some night when Brant wasn’t home, because he’s never home anymore, is he?” His angry greens sliced my gaze. “No, he left you to swing in the wind. Who knows what would have happened if you’d opened that door on JW’s smiling face. Pepper spray won’t cut it with him, babe." Hunter’s words and the memory of JW’s eagle eyes chilled me through to my toes. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I sucked in cool breaths to remain calm despite the chaos that my life had descended into.

"Let’s say you would have lucked out—which really isn’t luck at all but it’s the only shot you’ve got at this point—so Brant is home. JW threatens him to the tune of ten million, and Brant says what? Or maybe he doesn’t even get a chance to say anything because JW already has an automatic at your husband’s throat. Even if they let him walk away, it won’t be pretty. He would have been wishing for death."

"Hunter," I interrupted him as fear choked my insides.

"And I’m sure you would have called the police, Princess, because that’s your thing." He tossed me a sarcastic smile. "But that wouldn’t have ended well either. JW would have taken a finger before letting you hit the first number. It’s the world JW lives in, Erin. So if you want to take your chances, by all means. But when I hired you to be my PA, I as good as saved your ass. Said it before and I’ll keep sayin’ it ’til you believe it." He leaned in, his lips pressed to my ear and breath tickling down my neck. "I’m the best thing for you." His quiet rasp filled the hollows of my mind and caused a shudder to roll through my body.

Fear and lust became inextricably intertwined for me that day, ruining me for anyone else. He was about to bring my world shattering down around my feet in an entirely new way.

"Come here." He pulled me into the broad, hard wall of his chiseled chest and shoved a rough hand down my pants. My head tossed back and a low moan fell from my lips when the pad of his thumb made searing hot contact with my clit. His fingers dipped into the silky flesh and caressed the skin before plunging two fingers into my body.

"So fucking wet, sweetheart." His teeth tore at the flesh of my neck and my hands clutched at his biceps as my hips worked a fierce rhythm against his palm.

"Fuck," I panted and bit down on my bottom lip, desperate to contain the energy pulsing through my muscles for just a second longer.

"Mm, Princess." He pulled away and was shoving my jeans and panties down my legs before tossing them in the soft dirt. The cool night air kissed my heated skin as he lifted me in his arms and pinned me against a tree. I stretched, suspended in the space between us, with my knees contorted around his neck while he rested one large palm on the narrow maple that supported us, and just as I registered the rough bark digging into my back, Hunter’s tongue delved between my sex-slicked folds.

Like a man starved, he licked and swirled, thrusting his fingers into my pussy as he held me propped on his beautiful shoulders. "So fucking sweet," he murmured before dragging his teeth across my blazing skin. Without care for the bark biting at my back, I rocked my pussy against his mouth, watching his lips suck and caress my hot flesh before I was coming in low moans and heaving pants, my thighs tightening and quaking uncontrollably.

He dropped me to my feet a moment later. "Strip." Hunter’s eyes glazed with that fiery, passion-consumed look I loved. I pulled the shirt over my shoulders and let it drop in the dirt at my feet before his eyes darted from my lacy bra back to my eyes with a head tilt. I smiled and shimmied the straps down my arms, taking my time to tantalize him. It was working. He followed my actions like a starved lion, and before I had even slipped one arm out, Hunter had his hands behind my back and was unhooking the flimsy fabric for me. He pulled the lace off my body and raised my arms above my head, twisting the black fabric in knots around my wrists.

The soft clink of his belt came next. After that, my thoughts spun away like wild butterflies and I was reduced to only feeling. Lost were the fear and the terror and the secrets. Gone was the numbness.

I heard him.

I felt him.

I smelled him.

I yearned to reach out and trace the scars decorating his forearms with my fingertips. I wanted to feel fingernails digging into hard flesh, but instead I was caught, strung against this tree and waiting for Hunter to use me.

I sucked in a quick breath when chilled leather danced across my skin. His eyes flared with need when he stepped back. "Stay still." The soft growl hissed through the night and sent a current straight between my shifting thighs.

"Yes, sir," I groaned when the sharp lick of leather cut across the skin of one breast. My pussy fluttered and I shifted, writhing against the tree. Another bite of leather cut across my other nipple as the current of air caused by the strike blew at the strands of my hair. "Hunter," I murmured as my eyes fell closed just as another lash struck my nipple. The raging inferno descended into a pleasurable burn that had me aching for his touch, his tongue, his anything.

Hunter was back at my side a moment later and wrapping the leather around me, and the tree. My heart thundered and my insides pulsed with hot arousal when I realized he was tying me to the tree just like he’d done the model at the first photo-shoot in Portugal. The dark pinch of his belt cut across my skin just under my breasts, lifting them higher than they usually stood with nipples peaked in the cold air. His palms grazed my skin before he plucked at one pert bud and sent a shudder of painful arousal coursing through my bloodstream.

My knees swam and my thighs shook as he tightened the belt a notch further around the young tree, leaving me bound and at his mercy. "You look like the perfect whore, Princess." His voice throttled need through my veins, and I knew what the model had felt under his molten stare and cool leather ties at our photo-shoot in the Lisbon villa. “Even better than that model we tied up in Portugal,” he finished, as if reading my mind.

"Hunter," I hummed, twisting against the binds, feeling so turned on I thought I might come without any further touch.

"Want to be fucked against the tree?" His fingers threaded between my skin and the leather before he gave it a tug to check the sturdiness.

"Yes," I whispered. "Please."

"Mm, love you begging." Hunter’s hands rested at my thighs as he positioned himself between them, lining up his heavy cock. It glistened with pre-cum in the moonlight and made me throb. His fingers dug into my thighs as he wrapped them around his waist and teased the tip of his dick at my soaked entrance. He ran the hard flesh between my lips before pulling away again, leaving me in a near lust-fueled rage.