The Enemy Contract (Westbrook #2)

9. Avery

Chapter 9

Avery

I stared at the clock on my wall, watching the time tick by as I waited for Hunter to arrive. He was late, which was the usual for him, but tonight it grated on me more than normal. I’d spent the past hour pacing around my tiny apartment, trying desperately to push away the thoughts that had been swirling in my mind all day.

The truth.

The painful, unavoidable truth that I was falling for Hunter Westbrook.

I sighed and sat on the worn-out armrest on my couch. Running my hand through my hair, I reminded myself that this wasn’t part of the original deal. We were supposed to fake it. To charm all of Charleston, sell the romance, and go our separate ways when the dust cleared.

But every smile, every smirk, every wink from Hunter felt too real. Like something was sinking its claws into me and refusing to let go.

I only needed to figure out how Hunter felt, although something told me he was oblivious to my ridiculous feelings.

Before I could continue my spiral, I heard a knock at the door. I stood too quickly and felt a slight head rush, trying to shake the anxiety out of my hands before walking toward the door.

My pulse quickened as I opened the door to see Hunter leaning against the frame.

With the dim hallway light framing him, his jawline was sharp and rugged, his eyes narrow and searching.

He looked tired, but still annoyingly handsome in his dark jeans and tailored jacket.

“Finally,” I said, stepping aside and letting him in, hoping my attitude would throw him off the fact that I was falling. “I thought you were going to make me wait all night, Hunter.”

He shook his head as he walked directly into my living room. “You can blame Betsy for that. She wanted to thoroughly prepare me to pitch her latest scheme with perfect precision.”

I sighed as my stomach dropped. “Another scheme? Aren’t we already in the midst of the previous one? What is she doing this time, staging a parade?”

Hunter let out a forced laugh and turned to face me. “Not quite. She wants me to propose.”

“What?” I asked, freezing in place, my voice hitting a high octave I wasn’t even aware I could hit.

Hunter’s tone was exasperated but still there was a hint of something softer. “Avery, I know it’s insane. But Mother is convinced that this is the best way to shut down all the rumors and ensure the sale of the gallery goes through.”

As I stared at him, a million thoughts rushed through my mind.

Betsy wanted a fake proposal? On top of everything she was already requesting?

“Hunter…” I said, with no idea how to respond, “this is… this is?—”

“Outrageous?” he asked, his lips turning into a crooked smile. “Believe me, I know. I told her the same thing when she mentioned it to me.”

My voice wavered even though I was trying to sound firm. “Then why are we even discussing it? Let’s just tell her no.”

He sighed and sat down on my couch.

I suddenly found myself feeling self-conscious about my home. Hunter was used to living at the finest estates like Westbrook Meadows, surrounded by massive mansions and hundreds of acres of privacy. My one-bedroom apartment measured exactly eight hundred square feet and not an inch more.

Furthermore, as I glanced behind me, I noticed there was a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, and a stack of unpaid bills on the counter next to it.

Great impression , I scolded myself.

Then again, I hadn’t seen Hunter’s condo, despite the fact that he lived relatively close by. He’d mentioned that the kitchen was being renovated and that the place was a mess. I found myself curious about what his home looked like.

Now there was no air of mystery about me.

He’d seen inside my home.

“Let’s step out onto the balcony,” I said, gesturing toward the sliding glass door.

I’d hoped that the view might distract him from the state of disarray within my apartment. Then again, the only view from the balcony was of the guest parking lot, which probably paled in comparison to whatever fantastic water view Hunter probably had at his place.

We walked out to the balcony, and I slid the door shut behind us, hoping to seal away the visual of laundry waiting to be folded on my couch. Unfortunately, the only sight we could see was a mostly-empty parking lot, aside from a small compact car and large black SUV that I hadn’t ever seen before.

Hunter sat in one of the chairs and looked up at me. “This is about more than just her pushing her weight around and getting her way. This is about the gallery sale, Lockwood, and… I don’t know… her damn legacy, I guess?”

I nodded my head even though I had thousands of questions I wanted to ask.

Hunter glanced down at his feet, then back up to me. “And maybe it’s because… because this doesn’t feel as fake as it was supposed to.”

His words hit me like a sledgehammer. My chest tightened and the silence between us stretched long and thick, charged with tension.

“What are you saying right now?” I finally asked, my voice shaking.

He rose to his feet before running a hand through his hair and taking a step closer to me.

“I’m saying,” he answered, “that somewhere along the way, I think I’ve stopped pretending, Avery.”

The air between us was electric. We were stepping up to something we wouldn’t be able to step back from.

I forced a laugh that was too strained to be believable and shook my head. “You don’t mean that…”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped lower, softer. “I do mean it.”

I gulped, swallowing harder than I’d meant to as I tried to keep my defenses intact.

“Hunter,” I said, raising a hand to protest, even though I didn’t want to, “this is a business arrangement. We both agreed to that.”

I couldn’t let my guard down. I needed to maintain a professional demeanor to get us through charade.

“Is this really just business?” he asked as he stepped even closer, closing the final inches of space between us. His hand gently touched against mine, setting my skin on fire. “If you tell me I’m wrong, Avery… if you tell me you don’t feel it too, I’ll walk right out that door.”

I tried to find the right words, but they wouldn’t come. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but nothing escaped.

The truth was buried inside me, trying to fight its way up and out.

I tried to steel myself, to sound confident.

“This is a bad idea,” I whispered, my voice betraying me, trembling with everything I wanted to confess but couldn’t admit.

Hunter leaned forward, his forehead nearly touching mine as I drew in a sharp breath.

“Probably,” he said, his eyes widening, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

Caught in the fiery intensity of Hunter’s gaze, I was completely frozen. This felt too raw and too dangerous. Every instinct within me told me to push him away. This wasn’t just a bad idea; it was a recipe for disaster.

We needed to keep up the performance without any flaws. Emotions would only complicate things. My financial future was on the line, along with millions of dollars at stake.

Now was not the time to be impulsive.

But the moment Hunter’s hand cupped my jaw, my resolve completely shattered. His finger brushed lightly against my cheek, and I instinctively moved forward, closing the gap between us.

Our lips met for the first time, and the world tilted off its axis. The kiss was passionate and totally unyielding. A culmination of every argument, every stolen glance at a gala, every moment we’d tried to deny what was growing between us, to no evident avail. His hands firmly gripped my waist, and I clung to him as if I were afraid to let go. He pulled me closer, and for a brief moment, there was nothing else.

No Betsy, no Marcus, no charade, and no deal.

Just me and Hunter.

We finally pulled apart and I stared up at him, breathless, with my hands still resting in the pockets of his jacket.

“This doesn’t change anything between us,” I said with a grin, but the words felt hollow and completely meaningless as soon as they left my mouth.

Hunter gave a small, knowing smile. “I think it does.”

I didn’t give an answer because I couldn’t think of one—because I knew Hunter was right.

This kiss was going to change everything moving forward. And the thought of that terrified me as much as it thrilled and delighted me.

I felt as if I’d been unmoored, like gravity had left and abandoned me.

Hunter’s forehead rested against mine, the still night air surrounding us.

He whispered my name, but it came out more like a plea than a word. “Avery.”

I couldn’t think of a response because I was entirely focused on controlling the shaking that was overcoming me. Instead, I took his hand and led him inside from the balcony. The coolness of the Charleston evening air gave way to the comfortable warmth of my apartment.

The shift in temperature felt symbolic, mirroring the spark that was growing between us.

I quickly closed the blinds so none of my nosy neighbors would be able to see inside.

I turned to face Hunter once we were inside, studying his features as they were framed by the dim light.

He cupped my face in his warm, steady hand and traced this thumb down my jawline as if he were memorizing it.

Then, without any warning, he pulled me in for another kiss.

But this one felt different.

Animalistic.

It was more than a kiss; it was a claim to what belonged to him.

As I struggled to catch my breath, Hunter lifted his shirt from his head with one quick motion. The sight of his sculpted physique was like a punch to the chest. It was the first time I’d ever seen him shirtless. He was breathtaking; sculpted abs, broad shoulders, and a torso that looked like it’d been carved from a slab of marble.

Hunter stood before me in a way I’d never seen him before—raw and exposed.

It was almost too much for me to process at once.

He was built like the archetypal Greek god, more statue than man, powerful curves, and strong lines. His body was a testament to strength and control.

My gaze fell on him, raking over his body and taking him in as the heat grew inside me.

My voice was lost; caught between admiration and burning desire. I swallowed hard and the sound filled my ears, echoing through my brain.

I’d wanted this—him, Hunter—since the moment we’d first met.

Now, here he was, standing before me as if he wanted to devour me.

I watched as Hunter reached down and unbuttoned his jeans. The sight sent a thrilling shock through my body.

When Hunter’s shaft sprang free, I let out an uncontrolled, involuntary gasp.

It was stunning. Perfectly shaped. Smooth yet firm. Stiff and masculine.

I instinctively went down to my knees immediately and pulled the tip of his cock into my mouth. His gorgeous crown pushed past my lips and quickly touched my tongue. The taste of him was overwhelmingly sweet, fulfilling every fantasy I’d crafted in my mind since the second we met at the bar.

Greedily, I pulled him further into my mouth, as if I wanted to trap him there with me, so he wouldn’t leave. As if I were worried he’d have second thoughts and pull away.

But the way he grabbed my hair, his fingers pressing through to my scalp, I knew there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

With each stroke of my tongue, I felt his cock getting stiffer, and within seconds, I tasted precome.

Fuck , I thought. This feels too good to be real. Too good to be true.

But I wasn’t about to pause and pinch myself. The sensation of his crown brushing against the back of my throat caused me to groan, loud enough that I knew he could hear even though it was muffled.

Around the base of Hunter’s shaft, I wrapped my lips tightly and pulled my head back and forth, listening as he moaned over me, his fingers interlacing with my hair.

I wanted to give him every ounce of lavish attention I could muster.

His crown pulsated in my mouth, and I steadied myself by gripping his thighs. Hunter began to rock in and out of my mouth, treating it like his own private toy.

My mouth felt warm with precome and I felt his rhythm intensify. He pulled out gently, then rocked and thrust his way back in. Eyes wide open, I curled my tongue and looked up at him with enthusiasm.

As I rolled the tip of my tongue up and down his slick shaft, his breath became heavy and labored, deep and primal.

I felt hyper aware of everything surrounding me.

Including the fact that this romance was definitely not fake anymore.

Something about Hunter’s magnetic presence made me want nothing more than to obey his command and follow his lead.

He pointed toward the bedroom and within seconds we were there, staring at my bed.

Hunter’s voice was low. “On the bed, on your back, close to the headboard. Strip down to no clothing.”

I instantly followed his instructions, disrobing and placing pillows between my back and the headboard. He came over with one lubed hand and began to stroke my shaft, teasing me and pulling me.

He then climbed onto the bed and positioned himself over me, continuing to rub my cock with one hand while using the other to pull my legs over his shoulders.

It was as if I were completely at his mercy—just the way I’d dreamt of it.

As he pulled me up, I felt vulnerable.

Exposed.

But with Hunter, there was nothing but trust.

He slid one lubed finger into my tight hole, sending a pulsating shock of electricity through my body. Hunter pushed his slick finger inside my tight entrance, and I heard an involuntary whimper escape my lips.

He took his time, not rushing as he circled my sensitive spot with precision.

My body shook and my thoughts scrambled as I writhed beneath him.

His other hand stroked me in rhythm with his movements as I gripped the wooden headboard, barely able to keep myself composed while he touched me.

Hunter worked me over with unrelenting confidence, and all I could do was lie there, slack jawed as my body was consumed by pleasure.

Moments later, a second finger entered me, stretching and filling me. Taking me to an edge I hadn’t known existed—and never wanted to leave.

Hunter’s touch was pure bliss.

On his knees, Hunter walked forward on the bed toward me. Suddenly, but gently, I felt his thick bulge pressing against my ass. It was as if he was gradually—yet persistently, and commandingly—demanding entry, and I was eager to oblige.

I reached over and retrieved a condom from the nightstand and watched as Hunter rolled and stretched it over his rigid length.

He squirted lube into his hand and spread it over his shaft.

Hunter pressed against me again, and I widened slowly, moaning gently as he entered. With lube, I took him in with minimal effort, breathing deeply in and out as he pushed into me. My body was filled with a full exhilarating warmth, rewarding me for my patience.

All the fake nonsense, all the staged appearances had led me and Hunter to this moment.

It was special, and it was ours.

Every drop of anticipation that had built between us exploded within me as Hunter took me inch by inch, staking his claim.

“Deeper,” I said, my voice more of a throaty plea than a full request. “I want you deeper, Hunter.”

He rocked back and forth, pushing his length into me, with solid yet gentle hips. His strength seemed unparalleled.

Hunter’s cock made unrelenting progress in me as I moaned but winced, my body alternating between pleasure and pain.

Suddenly, he hit my p-spot, and the look of ecstasy on my face must have conveyed that to him, because he started to rut harder and harder.

With every piston-like thrust, Hunter brought his cock deeper and deeper into me, rocking back and forth. He took his time with his bulging tip making his way back to my p-spot with absolute precision.

Each time he pushed in, he used his free hand to stroke my cock, running his warm grip up and down my length.

I reached down to grab my own cock as his hand move away from it, partially because I wanted to stroke it and partially because I needed support to balance myself.

Being fucked by Hunter felt like experiencing an earthquake, both terrifying and exhilarating.

But with Hunter, it was worth it.

As he stroked me, he gazed down at me with a mixture of adoration and lust.

I could barely tell up from down as we lost ourselves to the chaotic heat our bodies had sparked. It was amazing to me that he was able to hold me up and propel himself into me with such ferocity.

He was powerful. He was awe-inspiring. He was incredible.

And he was about to come.

His eyes expressed the kind of pressure that one sees before a geyser explodes. With Hunter’s cock buried deep inside me, I was more than ready for it—I was desperate .

To my surprise, I suddenly felt myself spilling over the edge, losing control, and coming explosively, rushing, writhing. Hunter leaned down and pressed a firm kiss into my mouth, claiming me as he held me tightly.

We were as close as we could possibly be to each other, and we both came at the same time amidst heavy breaths and pants.

Each massive pulsating release shocked through our bodies as we came unrelentingly hard and fast.

My mind raced as Hunter burst into me, shot after shot as I struggled to breathe beneath him, my nerves on fire.

He slid out of me carefully, collapsing on top of me and pulling me close. In that moment I felt fulfilled, seen—loved. He rolled onto the bed next to me and quickly pulled my head onto his chest. I could hear him struggling to regain both his breath and his composure.

I instantly felt the need to spoon him, pulling my body closer to his and feeling his radiating heat.

Basking in the euphoria created by our bodies intertwined in the sheets, I never wanted this moment to end. My body was still pulsating with pleasure as I tried to recover.

Hunter wrapped his arms around me. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I chuckled. “I’m still not convinced that you’re entirely real, Hunter Westbrook. Just a figment of my imagination.”

Hunter pressed a gentle kiss against my temple, sending a shiver down my spine.

“If I’m not real,” he said, “then you’ve got one hell of a creative mind, Mr. Ashford.”

“Maybe,” I said, my voice soft. “But I’m starting to think maybe I’m just incredibly lucky.”

“Lucky?” he asked, gazing down at me.

“Lucky to have met you.”

Hunter’s eyes softened. “I’m the lucky one, Avery. You make this whole thing feel like it matters.”

I sighed. “I’ve always chased stability. Tried to prove to myself that I could stand on my own, that I didn’t need anyone. I never thought someone like you could possibly come into my life—you’ve changed everything, Hunter.”

He gently brushed a strand of hair from my face.

“I thought I’d never be lucky enough to find a man who made me want to stop running,” he said. “But here we both are, Avery.”

We lay in silence for a few moments. The warmth emanating from his body held me captive. It was a perfect moment of peace that I’d never dared to hope for or imagine.

“I don’t know what comes next,” I said, nuzzling my head against his bare chest. “But as long as I’m with you, I’m not worried about it. I’m unafraid.”

Hunter’s fingers traced patterns on my back as he smiled down at me.

“We’ll face it together,” he said. “We’ll take it as it comes.”

In that moment, wrapped in Hunter’s protective arms, I believed we truly could.