Xavier
Something isn’t right. I can feel it the second I get out of the car. Miles can as well, given the way he tenses and puts a hand close to his firearm, snug on his hip.
“Get back in the car,” Miles orders.
I don’t think so. I didn’t make it this far in life by letting others fight my battles. Besides, this doesn’t feel malicious. Simply there.
“Are you going to shoot me, Miles?”
The familiar voice sends a tremble through me. It sounds decadent in the dark quiet of the underground parking space. Beautiful.
“Hello, Hunter.” I don’t ask how he found my home address. He’s as resourceful as we are if not more so. He certainly has more people around him that he trusts.
When he steps out of the shadows, I suck my bottom lip into my mouth at the sight of him.
No one else in the world fills out a suit quite like he does.
A plain and simple two-piece grey on white.
Unassuming belt, glinting silver watch. Another businessman in the city, blending in.
Except he can never blend in for me. I could pick him out of any crowd, no matter what he’s wearing.
“What are you doing here?” Miles asks. He hasn’t relaxed, still ready to step in if needed.
My ever-loyal guardian. He merely gives me a look when I tap his elbow.
Not listening, of course. He never does when it comes to my safety.
He follows me without question but never blindly.
Always as an equal and I love him for it.
The one person in the world that’s mine alone, that belongs to me and yet won’t roll over just because I ask.
“I don’t take being told ‘no’ very well.” He approaches carefully, not taking his eyes off Miles. “Especially when this is my business, not yours.”
“Leave. Now.”
“No, I don’t think I will.” Hunter puts a hand on his hip, suit jacket moving and revealing that he’s armed as well. I’d expect no less. “You have information that I want. I’m not leaving until I get it.”
“Then prepare to die of old age down here in the cold.”
“Now there’s no need for that,” I interject smoothly.
“Let’s go inside and talk about this like civilized men.
” A hand sliding down Miles’ back jolts him into action.
He locks the car, and keeping a hand on his holster, never trusting completely, he leads us to the elevator that will take us to the foyer of the building where a bank of elevators will take us the rest of the way.
The appeal when choosing this particular home was the security and of course, the gym and pool right here.
Not to mention, I now own the entire building.
I have enough money I could buy a private home with all of those amenities, of course, but I prefer being in the city.
And I’ve never wanted a home or a place to lay down roots. Those dreams died when Hunter left me.
Miles stops Hunter from getting into the small square space with a hand against the doorframe, forcing it to stay open. Unless Hunter wants to risk ducking under his arm, he’s blocked off.
“What now?” he asks tersely.
“Hand it over.”
“No.”
“Then leave.”
Licking my dry lips only sends blood pumping to my cock. Watching them spar is a show all its own. I don’t remember this level of electricity back before everything was set on fire. Perhaps because Hunter wasn’t the threat he is now. Miles is nothing if not overly protective.
Hunter’s jaw twitches, and then he pulls out his gun, flipping it in his hand and handing it over. “You’re not having my knife. You already owe me one.”
“Fair enough.” The leather of his gloves flexes as he takes the weapon and holds it loosely. He steps out of the way and allows Hunter to enter before he presses the button for the top floor.
“How did you find us?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. Nothing is in my name, everything separated enough to keep my identity a secret.
“I know people. You aren’t half as invisible as you think you are.”
Miles growls in front of us but doesn’t move to turn around or make any aggressive moves.
“Interesting. And what kind of people are they?” Military? Government? Something else? I know he’s been sniffing around a local motorcycle club lately, though I haven’t been able to work out why. A mystery to be solved.
“Nice try.”
Laying a hand on the small of his back, I crowd him and lean down to nuzzle at his ear.
“Was it? Should I try harder?” His hair smells divine.
Soft, fresh. An open-mouthed kiss against it only intensifies the way he lights me up.
“What would it take, love?” He doesn’t move, remaining still while I explore him.
Even when I lift his jacket and tug his shirt from his waistband so I can sneak my hand up underneath.
His breath hitches at my caresses. He still doesn’t move away. “If I get on my knees, would you spill all your secrets?” The skin below his ear is soft under my lips, and the shudder that runs through him when I bite down is breathtaking. He responds like a dream; he always has.
A nudge of his shoulder and he’s turning, completely under my spell.
Fitting my chest to his back reminds me just how perfectly we fit together.
“What if I give you what you want?” A roll of my hips puts me exactly where I want, snug against his ass.
He braces his hands on the wall of the elevator, pushing back the tiniest fraction, like he’s fighting against himself.
“Fill you like you need.” A hand in his hair is all I need to tilt it forward, exposing his neck.
I snap my hips forward, and he lets out a strangled groan, trying to keep it in.
That’s alright, I know it won’t take much for all those beautiful sounds to spill out. He can’t hide them from me.
“Will you let me in, then?”
No answer. I’m hardly expecting one. He’ll never vocalise that he needs me the same way that I need him. I demand, and he gives in, and he never makes himself vulnerable even while doing so. He’s not willing to trust me again, and I’m not willing to let go. We’ll be in this limbo forever.
“You smell good.” Better than good. A delight to my every sense. Better than the first rain of the season, the last bite of a decadent chocolate cake. My poison and my antidote.
Hunter exhales sharply, splaying his hands on the elevator wall and lowering his head. “I’m here to talk.”
“Are you?” I know why he’s here. He doesn’t come to me for the pleasure of my company. Trailing my fingertips down his side, he twitches underneath my touch. I could do more right now. I could strip him bare and fuck him here in this elevator. He wouldn’t stop me.
Taking a step back, I give him breathing room. “Then come in, Hunter. You’re always welcome.”
Miles gives me a look that contradicts the words, but that doesn’t make them less true.
No matter if he wants to throw Hunter out on his ass, he won’t, because I don’t want him to.
It’s that simple. Hunter has never been here, for his own reasons, and none of them have anything to do with him not being welcome here.
If he wanted to come back to me, I would open my arms for him without question.
Sometimes in my dreams, he does.
He follows us wordlessly into the apartment, sweeping over the room and taking it all in.
It’s a simple design, with an open plan that fits the living room, the kitchen and a dining area.
Too big for one person, too big even for two.
Modern black-and-white matching décor that somehow makes the space even more barren.
Beautiful but soulless, it was put together by a designer I hired years ago.
It looks, and very much is, a wasteful expense, all money and no heart. It suits me.
Miles and I barely take up the space, though I much prefer when he’s here. It feels a little less cold, a little less empty. Though most would scoff at the idea that Miles makes any place warmer, based on his disposition. He thaws for me, and me alone, in his own way.
“Drink?”
Hunter’s green eyes meet mine. They’re darker, the lingering effects of my touch. They brush over me like a physical caress. “Sure.”
Miles is already moving to the fridge, always anticipating what I need.
Hunter doesn’t look away from him as he prepares the drinks—glasses of peach-infused sparkling water, with ice—and the intensity of it adds tension to the room, like an erotic dance between them.
I wonder what would have happened if they’d had this connection all those years ago.
Would things have turned out differently? I highly doubt it, though I can wonder.
Hunter accepts the glass with a nod of thanks, stares at it, and then slides it onto the counter, shoving a hand into his pocket. “I want to know what you’ve found out, and I won’t be excluded again. I don’t advise that you try it, or our acquaintance is going to get a lot more unpleasant.”
Miles shrugs off his jacket, drapes it over the back of the kitchen stool, and rolls his sleeves to his elbows, securing them in place. “We don’t require your assistance at this stage.”
“I couldn’t care less about what you ‘require.’ This is my business, not yours. I didn’t come to you for help.” He steps closer to Miles, tipping his head up a fraction, lips flat. “Next time, you’re taking me with you, and that’s final.”
“Is it?” Miles asks lightly. His eyes flick to me, a silent question on his face.
“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Hunter snarls. “I’m not asking him for permission and neither are you. Next time, you’re taking me with you,” he repeats. “And that’s the end of the conversation. Are we clear?”
Hunter in full glory like this is intoxicating, like a fine-aging whiskey. It never fails to get me from zero to one hundred in mere seconds. His fierce temper and take-no-shit attitude are my kryptonite. I allow no one else to speak to me the way he does.
Miles tips his head a fraction to the side, studying Hunter’s face. “Crystal,” he murmurs eventually. “Anything else?”