Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
HUNTER
Hair of the dog wasn’t helping me as much as I hoped.
By the time I got back to Trayton, I felt as if I’d been chewed up and spit out.
I headed straight to the Durango, thinking the cold sea air would be better than our stuffy house.
And, somehow, it was going to be easier not seeing Amy’s house or her shabby little car or anything else that might remind me how much I missed her.
It was like walking around with a cold hard fist in my stomach, and I had no clue what to do about it.
The more I thought about us together, the more I convinced myself she needed more.
She was like fucking perfection, put on this earth to absorb some of the unwanted darkness.
Having her living just a few yards away had made our lives better.
She had been the one bright spot in our grim existence.
She needed someone who deserved her. That sure as hell wasn’t me.
I held the whiskey bottle to my mouth and lifted it straight up to get the last drops.
The liquid burned going down, and the alcohol was no longer having much effect.
I let the bottle dangle from my fingers.
Leaning forward to put it down on the floor was going to take more energy than I had.
I’d expected to climb up to the pilot house and collapse into a long winter nap like a goddamn hibernating bear, but instead, my mind was spinning.
I seemed to have reached that point of being so tired, I couldn’t rest my head enough to sleep.
My mom used to call it the sleepy-crazies.
She never had it easy. Aside from having to dodge my dad’s iron fist, she had to deal with three wild, out-of-control boys.
Guess that’s why she eventually took the easy way out.
I yanked off my shirt and leaned my back against the cool plaster wall as I stared out the front windows of the pilot house.
The moon added a strip of gold to an otherwise black sea.
The rhythmic, lonely clanging of the pulleys and chains dangling from masts made the marina feel extra deserted. I felt as empty as the dock.
A shadow passed outside, but I dismissed it, figuring my lack of sleep was bringing on hallucinations. Then the door to the pilot house opened. “Shit, Slade, I told you I was fi—”
Amy stepped inside. The small lantern that hung on a hook near the door swung back and forth, casting shadows across her pretty face and making her hair shine like copper.
“Well, damn.” My words were stretched and slurred. “They sent an angel down to pick me up and take me to eternity. And here I thought I was going a different route.”
She walked closer. I looked her up and down.
“If I knew angels were going to be this hot, I would have drank myself to death long ago.”
She reached down and took the whiskey bottle from my fingers and put it on the floor. “I have about as much chance of being an angel as you have of meeting one as you leave this world.”
She pushed between my knees and stood in front of me.
The willowy soft scent that always surrounded her floated over me, making some of the ache in my head and chest lift away.
She reached forward and pressed her finger near the gash on my cheek.
The blood had dried, but one long yawn would get it flowing again.
“Why the hell do you always have to walk around with big gaping cuts? Can’t you ever just go out and come back the same way you left?
” She walked over to the captain’s chair and leaned down into the compartment that held the first aid box.
I watched her. My sleep deprived mind seemed to be making everything move in slow motion, and her long, graceful movements were causing the air to stick in my lungs.
She turned around with the first aid box and walked back. She sat on the bench next to me. Her body brushed my arm as she reached up with some antiseptic soaked cotton. I winced as she pressed the stinging solution against the cut.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Little bit.”
“Good.”
“Street, I—”
“Shh. No talking. When you talk, it fucks things up. So, just shut up and let me take care of you.”
“I’m O.K. with—
She pressed her finger against my mouth. “You’re still talking.”
“I was just—”
She sighed. “Oh my god. Nothing. Not a word.”
I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes.
She pressed a long bandage over the cut.
Having her so close was sending my body and pulse into overdrive.
I hadn’t been with her since the night in the office, and I ached for her now.
She was my one constant. She was the only thing that still always made sense, and having her warm body brush up against my arm as she cleaned the gash reminded me just what a fucking drug she was for me.
There was nothing I craved more than Amy, and it had been a long, harsh stretch of withdrawals.
But I’d blown it with her so often, she had no reason to give me what I wanted most, her silky, naked body in my arms.
She stood up and returned the first aid kit to the compartment.
Then she walked back and stood in front of me with an admonishing look.
I was sure I was going to get a lecture for disappearing and not calling.
Instead, she unzipped her sweatshirt and pulled it off.
She dropped it on the floor. She gazed down at me, her bottom lip looking just a bit angry, as she reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt.
She lifted it up and off and dropped it to the floor.
The air that had been squeezed tight in my chest rolled out in a long shuddering breath.
I gazed up at her as she reached back and unclasped her bra.
It fell to the ground and the round, white breasts and rose colored nipples that I knew so well pointed at me.
My cock was tight as granite as she unbuttoned her fly.
I watched and swallowed hard with anticipation as she pushed her pants and panties to the ground. She stepped out of them.
I’d seen her naked so many times, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. “I take it all back. You’d put angels to shame. Come here, my Street Corner Girl. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.”
She straddled my lap, and I wrapped my arms around her.
“I just need to feel you in my arms. Baby, I—”
She lifted my face. “Shh,” she whispered.
Her lips pressed against mine. Then with quiet, deliberate movements she kissed my nose, the tender skin above the bandaged cut, my eyebrow and my forehead.
She was in control, and I was fine with that tonight.
I was bone weary, and my heart ached so badly for the girl sitting on my lap that I could feel the pain all the way down my arms and legs.
As I smoothed my hands over her skin, it warmed my fingers and sent my pulse racing.
I had to hold back. Tired as I was, if I didn’t check myself, if I didn’t tamp down my almost explosive urge to take her, to pull her under me, naked and open, then I would ruin this whole thing.
And I was fucking things up too much lately.
She bit her bottom lip as she reached down and worked open the buttons on my fly. Her small hand slid down my pants. I pulled in a breath as her long fingers wrapped around my cock. It strained against her grasp as she stroked along its hard length.
She hopped off long enough to shimmy my jeans down to my knees.
She swung her long, sleek thigh over my lap.
Her long lashes fluttered as she stared down at my chest, running her fingers along the edges of my tattoos and up over the scars on my shoulders, scars left behind by an angry, sharp belt buckle.
Her hard nipples rubbed against my chest as she leaned forward and kissed the ridges of the scars.
“We’re not Hunter and Amy tonight.” Her warm, sweet breath caressed my skin as she spoke.
“No history, no pain or heartache, no anger, just two people whose bodies were made for each other.” She rose up on her knees, reached between her legs and took hold of my cock.
She slid down over it, her head rolling back as if drunk from the feel of it.
“Just two people made for each other,” she whispered as she lowered herself down.
She was slick and hot as my cock impaled her.
Her arms wrapped around my head and she pulled my face against her.
My tongue traced circles around her nipples as she pressed her perfect, round tits against my mouth.
I gripped her ass as she moved up and down over me.
We were one body connected at the core. It had always been like that with Amy.
I’d always felt it with her. It was that strong, almost raw feeling that we belonged to each other that always scared the shit out of me.
“Oh, Hunter,” she moaned as she squeezed her thighs and tightened her pussy, milking my cock with each movement.
She ground her clit against me as she writhed faster and harder on my lap.
I met her hungry pussy with hard thrusts, filling her deeper each time.
Her thin arms tightened around me, and she pulled my face against her naked breasts.
“Yes! Fuck yes,” she cried out. A long string of erotic sounds followed, pinging off the walls of the pilot house.
Her skin was flushed pink as she caught her breath and smiled down at me.
She began moving wildly, lifting up and plunging her hot sheath down over my stiff cock.
The bench creaked and wobbled against the wall as our movements sped up.
I met her wet pussy each time, impaling her with a force that made her squeak with pleasure.
Then my soggy head cleared and my fingers dug into her hips as my cock exploded, releasing my hot seed inside of her.
“Fuck yeah, baby. I needed you tonight,” I groaned. “I need you every night.”
Her body relaxed, and she dropped her face down to my shoulder and gazed out the side window. I smoothed my palm over her naked back and held her tightly against me.
“I thought something had happened to you.” Her voice sounded small in the empty pilot house. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I couldn’t survive that.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I was in a bad place and the poker game got started and I just shoved all the shit that was bothering me out of my head.”
She lifted her face and kissed me. “Don’t do it again, or Slade and I are going to kick your ass.”
“Yeah? You and what army?” I kissed her again.