Hunter: MC Romance (Hell Reapers MC Book 1) (8 page)

“I’ll come with,” Hunter offered, getting up to his feet and sauntering over towards me and Barry. I felt a twist of heat between my breasts. Just watching him walk was enchanting.

I brushed back a strand of my hair, “Okay,” I said with a small smile. “But seeing as how you so rudely put your feet on my coffee table—“

“Hey I didn’t see a sign saying I couldn’t.”

“You’re going to be on poop duty.”

Hunter’s shoulders rose up when he shrugged, “I’m used to cleaning up people’s shit.”

“Why’s that?”

“People make mistakes,” Hunter brought his hand to Barristan’s head and gave him a series of affectionate pets, “I’m the guy who has to deal with the blowback. In the club, that is,” there was sadness in his eyes, a melancholy in the surrounding air that was somehow palpable.

Some fleeting feeling tugged at my heart, and a vague idea scratched at the surface of my brain. I wanted to ask him something then, but instead I looked away from him and tugged at Barristan’s leash. “Alright,” I said, “let’s get this over with.”

***

Eventually we returned. I shut the door behind me and unhooked Barry from his leash, and he pattered off into his little bed in the corner of the living room. “Do you want some coffee? Can’t figure you’re going to sleep with the sun coming up soon.”

“I’m good thanks,” Hunter replied, “I can’t stay too much longer – there’s something I have to do in the morning. I’ll take tea if you’ve got any, though.”

I froze in place and wanted to spin on my heel just to shoot him a look; there was a noise that
wanted
to leave my throat, but it just couldn’t. So instead I soldiered on into the kitchen and started rummaging through my cabinets, “What kind?”

“Green’s fine.” Good taste, maybe the man wasn’t such a bad person after all. As far as I could gather, the Hell Reaper’s were only exporting small time drugs through the nightclub Vivid. My only point of further concerns presently was the bartender Lex.

Of course, even Lex seemed nice enough. Then again, monsters came in all shapes and sizes – and they were promising disguises. When the image of Jerry zipped through my mind, I found my eyes shutting tight and my hand balling into a fist.

I swallowed the darkness that dwelt within my head and heart, just like I always did. “Green it is,” I said with a sad smile, grabbing chamomile for myself. Before she was ill, my mother used to swear by it – tea was her religion, her book and her church. I guess it was inevitable that it rubbed off on me, even though I used to hate the taste of it when I was a child.

So I set the tea, made sure to text Sabrina one last time even though I was sure that she was in bed – and worked my way back to that hot as sin man casually resting there on my couch. I sat down at the very end of the couch, about as far away as I could stand to be from him.

He picked up on my being far and away from him immediately, a grin forming on his face, “I didn’t realize that you had your own island over there,” he gestured with two fingers.

I scooted a couple of inches closer, “Satisfied?”

He hooked a long arm around my waist and pinioned me against the side of his person. I was so close to him now that I could smell him, could feel the delightful heat emanate from him – and God I smoldered helplessly beneath it.

There was no way in hell I was going to easily get this paper done.

But I thought about my mother, and I knew that I had to continue. No matter what.

“I am now,” he said in that smooth, low voice of his.

“You’re a bit of a dick, you know that?”

“Was always told it was a good thing, besides, if I’m going to be a dick,” he tilted his head, casting a look my way, “better to be the biggest than the smallest.”

“There’s more to a man’s greatest weakness than size,” I pointed out.

“Oh do tell,” Hunter said.

“Maybe for our second date.”

“Ah, we’re dating now are we? I haven’t even wined and dined you yet,” it was hard to ignore his hand on my waist, but somehow the man remained respectful of my space – or as much as he could, given his nature.

“I- I didn’t say that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” he replied.

“Oh screw you and the leather factory you crawled out of,” I crossed my arms over my chest; Jesus the man had an infuriating way about pushing my buttons.

Hunter laughed and casted a look my way, but all I could do was peek at him from the corner of my eye. I was too nervous, that I might end up losing myself in him, if I looked for too long. “Hey you’re pretty cute when you get all flustered, you know your nose sort’a moves?” he said

“It does not,” I turned my head just an inch to the left in defiance, concentrating as hard as humanly possible on my nose.

“Why don’t you sing something for me – seeing as we’re alone.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” I tried to wheedle my way out of having to perform for something that I never do outside of my shower. Soon the tea would be going off, anyway.

“Come on, of course you could,” he pursued. “If your voice is any indication, I’m sure you sound great.”

The lines of my face turned something hard, but fingers of warmth pressed at my chest – melting away at the cold that I kept there. “What would you have me sing?”

He shrugged, “Anything. Whatever you sing best? Whatever you would like.”

“Okay…” I said, butterflies fluttering through me, “but, you have to look,” I brought my hands up to Hunter’s face and smiled as I turned him away from me, “this way.”

The man chuckled at that, “Okay.”

“You can’t look,” I said, making a gesture as though I were scolding a dog. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

I didn’t do anything for a moment, I wasn’t even sure what I was going to sing. So I sat there like a fool, looking over to my dog and wishing that he could save me.

Standing up, I wrestled with the internal beast that told me I should try and make up some excuse, that I should either kick Hunter to the curb or pretend I was a narcoleptic. No, no that definitely wouldn’t work – hell I’d probably hurt myself trying to pull that off, and then he’d just think I’m some crazy klutz.

Damn. I have to go through with this.

Going through a mental list of potential songs, I settled on one that was close to my heart. “Don’t laugh,” I cleared my throat, “I have a friend that would love to show you the quickest way down a set of stairs.”

“I swear,” Hunter said, “I won’t incur your or their wrath.”

I cleared my throat a second time and did my best to remember how the melodies and lyrics went, taking in a deep breath.

“Love is a burning thing. And it makes a fiery ring. Bound by wild desire. I fell into a ring of fire. I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down. And the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns. The ring of fire, the ring of fire.”

Liquid fire ran freely through me, and I turned to glance at Hunter who’d taken all of ten seconds to break his promise. “I told you not to—“

“Keep going,” he husked, watching me from his seat on the couch.

I sucked in a breath through my nose, pushing back the anxious butterflies and nodding my head. “I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down. And the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns. The ring of fire, the ring of fire.”

Hunter went to his feet, keeping his gaze locked on mine.

“The taste of love is sweet,” I sang, feeling ripples of joy fill me.

“When hearts like ours meet,” Hunter came in, singing a smoky, octave lower harmony.

My smile turned twice as bright and I pushed at his chest, moving him back a step and a half. “You’re stealing my spotlight.”

“I’m not sorry,” Hunter closed the gap between us, his blue eyes drinking me in.

“I fell for you like a child.”

“Oh, but the fire went wild,” his voice was seductive, intoxicating. Hunter placed his hands on my hips, and my fires did indeed, go wild. What’s wrong with me? I feel so strange. I searched Hunter’s face, rendered completely helpless at the sight of him. His coffee colored hair, his strong, historic cheek bones. I never noticed the dimples that appeared when he smiled – I wanted to feel his light, hard stubble press against me as we embraced.

He tilted his head, and his hands that were on my hips brought me closer to him – a bolt of lightning from the blue hitting me as we drew closer and closer to glorious embrace. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, and we were so deliciously close – so delightfully woven against one another, that nothing else but us mattered.

Hunter’s lips brushed against mine, and when they did, something warm and tingling and ecstatic blossomed against the crown of my head. It was a small taste of what we both clearly wanted. What we needed. In that moment, it was like I had known the man for years – and yet, I was still completely enraptured with the idea of getting to know him.

Except our kiss never came to be. Like petals turning to dust in the wind.

He backed his head away, slowly, “Sorry,” he told me, stepping back a couple of feet and shaking his head solemnly.

I stood there dumbfounded. Never once had I been rejected, if that was even the word for what just happened, like that. So I said the first thing that managed to come out of my mouth, in hopes that I might get him to come back and finish what he started – I had half a mind to yank him back here myself, “But what about the tea?”

“Next time, gorgeous.” He sauntered over to my front door and Barristan perked his head up to follow Hunter’s movements. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t watch his tight ass work those denim jeans. He craned his head to look at me one last time, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, “I’ve got clients to meet at Victoria’s Park tomorrow, come and find me if you can. Let that be our second date,” he had the audacity to wink at me.

And just like that he left me in a whirlwind of confusion, excitement, lust and a most peculiar aching of the chest.

After locking the door behind me, I sank down into the couch and Barristan lazily walked over to me, nudging at my hand for attention. “What a jerk, right buddy?” He didn’t even have the courtesy of telling me when he’d be there. Was that his plan? For me to quietly hold disdain for him?

The old dog gave a rumbling woof without opening his mouth.

“Glad someone agrees,” I looked over to the bathroom door and eyed it for a good long while. There was a pit within me, one that could never seem to be filled. But I got to my feet and moved past Barristan, padding over to the frame of the bathroom door. I sucked in a breath and crossed over, closing the door behind me even though I knew that I was alone.

I crept over to the shower and stripped my clothes off one by one, letting them pool at my feet. I hated it. I hated that I knew, to be normal, to be clean, I had to do it. The memories of the incident came flooding back to me, as they always did – and it was like I was there all over again, crying out my father’s name.

He sat there in his yellow lawn chair, dressed in his drab wife-beater and looking like hell. He just sipped his beer like nothing was going on at all. He didn’t stay awake for long though, if he had, maybe his drunk ass would have done something. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. He didn’t use to always be terrible.

The pain shot through me and I felt that horrible urge to punch something again; but I was older now, wiser. You get tired of damaging your hand and having people ask questions, the only person I’d ever even think about talking about it with was Sabrina and of course my Mom. Still, I kept most of it in my head. I stood there for several minutes, holding myself and telling myself that it was okay – that it was just a shower, that I didn’t have to live in fear – that there wasn’t any danger.

After a while I hopped inside and let the scalding warm waters wash everything away, my heart still strangely ablaze from earlier.

Chapter 7.

Morning rolled around and I seriously considered first degree murder of my nightstand clock, but instead opted only to bludgeon the wailing beast.

There goes my best chances at getting some action. I was having the nicest, hottest dream that I’d had in what seemed like forever. I dipped a hand down to my wet crevice, feeling just how much I had been enjoying the dream after all.

Not even real sex with past men had gotten me soaked like this. I had a damn hard time getting the picture of Hunter’s magnificent…piece, out of my head. That was a bonding experience, no doubt.

The buds of my breasts stiffened ever so slightly, tingling with a resplendent fire at the thought of going down and making a mess of that man’s—

Shit! If I was only paid by how much I fantasized on the job, I’d probably never have to worry about making paper ever again. No falling for this guy, damn you. He’s not
that
good looking. Or romantic. Or beautiful sounding and makes my tummy feel all…

I buried my head beneath the coolness of my pillows and wanted to scream in frustration.

After several minutes of flopping around and protesting my own thoughts in my bed; groaning to nobody in particular, Barristan jumped up to greet me, resting on his hind legs by my feet like the loyal, watchful guardian he had always been. I exhaled a sharp breath, moving the strand of fiery hair out of my eyes and got my naked ass out of bed, calling the dog over and giving him his morning loving.