Xavier
“If I lock the doors and set fire to everyone in the room, do you think that’s too extreme?” I ask Miles, knowing that he can hear me clearly in his earpiece.
“Slightly,” Miles says. “I won’t rule it out, though.”
I knew there was a reason I’ve kept him by my side all these years. He’s good for so much more than his considerable looks.
“Who is he?” I shouldn’t ask. It doesn’t matter, in the grand scheme. But this time is different. This time Hunter brought him to me, and that changes everything.
“Matthew Snow. He’s Olivia’s teacher.” Always ready with the information he knows I’ll want. My reliable bodyguard.
“What are you doing, darling?” I murmur, rubbing my thumb over my bottom lip.
He chose a hotel restaurant that I own for a purpose.
I’m well aware this isn’t his first date, nor has he been celibate since he left me.
They’re marks on my soul that will never heal.
He’s never flaunted it like this before, however.
Never come to somewhere that’s mine. He wants me to see this.
Why? Twisting the message further? Hunter has never been prone to that kind of cruelty.
“Is it work related?” I don’t see how it could be.
What would a teacher know of the shadows we live in?
Unless he’s not what he seems. However, I’ve been studying him now for the better part of an hour, and I highly doubt there’s anything sinister hidden beneath that exterior.
He’s the epitome of an innocent lamb in a pen full of wolves.
He’s blushed so less than five times since they arrived, almost spilled his wine from enthusiastic hand waving, and startled when the tips of Hunter’s fingers met his own.
“There’s nothing in his records to indicate anything like that,” Miles answers.
“He’s completely ordinary.” How boring. “Both parents are alive. One is a secondary school teacher, and the other is in real estate. He has two siblings: younger brother, fifteen, August; older brother, thirty-five, Jack. Matthew has been teaching for six years now and moved to Olivia’s school last year.
Nothing untoward about the switch. He wasn’t fired from his previous job, and his reference was glowing. ”
A perfect citizen. Hardly Hunter’s type.
And yet there was something there. Hunter smiles at him, listens intently.
He may be doing this to hurt me, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a current between the two men.
A patient indulgence that’s missing when he looks at me.
It’s not an emotion I have use for or need, and I don’t feel the loss at having it directed elsewhere.
What bothers me is the warmth and just how focused my husband is on this man.
He’s so distracted that it takes him close to an hour before he even notices that he’s being watched. A deadly lack of observation unusual in the man who spends his life cataloguing details and using them to his advantage.
The moment he finally sweeps the room and lands on Miles, his entire body tenses, lips twisting into a sharp line. Matthew turns to where he’s looking, confused. Whatever Hunter says to him relaxes him, and then Hunter is up and out of his chair, heading straight for my shadow.
“Hunter,” Miles greets. He stands fluidly, leaving behind his untouched drink.
“Where is he?” Hunter asks flatly.
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Don’t fuck with me. He’s here, isn’t he? Take me to him.”
Satisfaction thrums steadily in my chest. There are enough cameras in the hotel that I could easily watch him all the way here, but I don’t switch across. Hunter’s date waits patiently, taking sips of his drink, and picks at the garlic bread they ordered as an entrée.
I would expect the first thing for anyone to do would be to take out their phone to keep themselves occupied.
Matthew doesn’t. By the time the distinct turn of the handle indicates that Hunter and Miles have arrived, he’s finished his drink and a few slices and is still waiting ever so patiently.
I can see why he teaches school children.
Let’s see how long that patience lasts when Hunter doesn’t return.
Miles comes through the door first, silently moving out of the way and adjusting his jacket. And then Hunter comes sweeping in like the devil himself.
It doesn’t matter how many times I see him; he still takes my breath away whenever he walks into a room. No matter what he thinks about our past, I’ve loved him from the moment we met. I knew even then that he belonged to me, and he’s been my everything ever since.
The close-cut suit he’s wearing looks far better in person, hugging all his curves and highlighting his best assets. I’m not surprised the teacher hasn’t been able to look away from him all night. Stronger men than him have failed.
Hunter falters, eyes darting over the empty bar. He can’t have missed the “closed for an event” sign outside the door, specifically put there for me to keep my privacy for the night. I don’t care about the loss of income from doing so; all I care about is him.
He stalks across the room, eyes blazing and looking every bit his namesake. Glorious in his anger and entirely focused on me, just the way that I like it.
“What are you doing here?” he bites out.
“Hello to you, too, darling.” His answering scowl only turns me on further, pants tightening around my thickening cock. He’s beautiful, no matter how he’s looking at me. So long as he’s looking at me, that’s all that matters.
“What are you doing here?” he repeats, tense.
“You invited me.” It’s really that simple. Whatever he’s doing, it was a blatant invitation, and I can’t deny him what he wants.
His eyes narrow. “How do you figure that?”
I take my time answering, slowly sipping at my wine.
The crisp coldness of it hits the heat of my insides, a cool slide that doesn’t alter the high temperature between us.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, love. It’s not a coincidence that in all of Sydney, you chose here to bring your date.
” I don’t sneer the last word, but it’s close. My self-restraint should be applauded.
Hunter is a smart, calculating man, in charge of a very dangerous group of individuals. He knew the moment that he made a booking here, under his own name, that I would know about it. That I wouldn’t be able to resist. I do enjoy flaying myself alive for him. I’ve had years of practice.
Hunter doesn’t reply. He turns his head to the laptop beside my glass on the bar. The screen is still showing the cameras I was using to watch him and the teacher. His nostrils flare, and there’s a dark heat in his green eyes that sends a thrill through me.
Rising from my stool, I close the distance between us. A single brush of my knuckles over the light stubble of his cheek causes his eyes to flutter closed. “You wanted me here; don’t lie to us both. You wanted me to see, to hurt.”
“No,” Hunter chokes out, not opening his eyes.
He doesn’t move away when I kiss him softly.
“Yes,” I whisper. I won’t allow him to hide from the truth of his actions.
He knew exactly what he was doing. “You wanted me to watch you.” A harder kiss this time, and his lips part for me.
“See you smile at him.” He tilts his head, giving me room to skim my lips under his jaw.
“Make him blush.” The teacher’s pale skin showed the bright red easily.
Unless it was warm in the room—and I know it’s not that warm—the response was all for my husband.
“Did you want me to go out there, make a scene?” He tastes sweet, like nectar made just for me.
“He’s not part of this.”
“You made him part of this when you walked him through those doors, Hunter.” He made a choice, and now he gets to deal with the consequences of it.
Gliding my hand down his arm, I finger the cuff links. A gift from me. He wore them deliberately, I’m sure of it. What exactly is he trying to do here?
“No, I didn’t. The one who doesn’t have a place here is you. I’m moving on.”
“Are you?” I ask mildly. That’s not an option for either of us.
It never has been. He may have tried over the years, trampling me each time, but it’s never worked.
It won’t ever work. It’s futile to try. A pointless endeavour that only hurts us both.
I wish he would give in, see that he can trust me.
That mistakes made in the past don’t mean mistakes made in the future.
“I need you to let me.”
“I won’t ever do that.” Grasping his chin, I force him to look at me. There’s no turning from this. From us. “Ever. Do you understand? I will haunt you forever because I can’t do anything else. You’re part of my soul, and that won’t change. I can’t live without you.”
A hand sharply grabs my jacket, our eyes locked in a fierce battle.
I’ve always been honest about what he is to me, how I feel about him.
His inability to move on from our past—with good reason, I can give him that—has kept us here, in this limbo where neither of us are whole.
I’ll stay here for however long he wants me to.
I’ll never leave, no matter how much it cuts me open and makes me bleed.
He drags me closer, his warm lips crashing into mine, his tongue pushing through and demanding everything from me.
He can have it all. I delve my hands into his hair, feeling the soft, silky strands, and then hold him, getting him to just the right angle to taste him as deeply as I want. He moans, spurring me on.
“I need you,” I rasp. I need him so fucking much that I’m burning up with it.
“Please,” he moans.