Chapter 9
Nova
“H unter,” I yell into the dark townhouse, my voice echoing in the silence. I put my keys down in the little tray by the front door and drop my purse on the floor. “Hunter, where are you?” I demand.
A lamp flicks on in the living room, making me jump back about three feet.
“Oh my god, you scared me! Why were you just sitting there in the dark?” I gasp breathlessly. “This isn’t Halloween!”
Hunter looks completely calm in the circle of light by the couch.
He’s still wearing the same jeans from earlier, although he’s shed his jacket to reveal a white button-down top.
I can’t help but notice how the snowy color of his shirt highlights his deep tan, including his bronzed neck and sinewy forearms. Those blue eyes are like glowing coals, still somewhat shaded at the moment. But his demeanor is perfectly calm.
“Hey Nova,” my stepdad drawls. “Glad you got back safe tonight. How was your date?”
It’s the perfect opening, and the rage rises in my chest again. Except there’s a tinge of excitement, and I think I know why.
Careful, Nova , the voice in my head warns. Don’t poke the bear because there may be a storm lurking behind Hunter’s calm exterior.
Still, what he did was wrong on so many levels! I deserve answers and decide to ignore the voice as steam hisses from my ears. I guess I have a lot to get off my chest, and I might as well let fly.
“So what was that about?” I demand, putting my hands on my hips while glaring daggers at my stepdad. “Why the hell did you show up at the movie theater when I was on a date? How did you even know I was there with Stan?”
Hunter nods thoughtfully, his face shaded in darkness although I can make out the square line of his jaw, as well as his proud Roman profile.
“I went to see a movie,” he says in a deceptively calm voice. “Why, is that wrong? I work long hours and decided to take myself out. It’s not so bizarre for a Saturday night.”
I glare at him, my hands balled into fists at my waist as my chest heaves.
“Yeah, but all the way in Kip’s Bay? How did you end up there, when there are so many theaters that are closer?”
He shrugs those broad shoulders.
“That’s what popped up on Fandango. It’s not that far, sweetheart. Manhattan is a small island, remember? I walked it even. It was cold, but a brisk walk can work wonders.”
I squint.
“Really. So it was just coincidence that you happened to be at the same AMC cineplex that I went to tonight. And you just ‘happened’ to be outside when I exited with Stan,” I say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Is that his name?” my stepdad asks in a casual tone, although I can detect hints of iciness beneath his neutral exterior.
“I forgot because he was a forgettable guy. But let me ask you something, sweetheart, because your date was wearing a varsity letter jacket. Does he actually play football, or was that more of a fashion statement?”
“ He plays football! ” I shoot back in a hot voice. “He’s the star quarterback and you ruined my date with him! He hightailed it out of there so fast after your little speech, that I’m surprised his hair wasn’t on fire!”
A smile plays on Hunter’s mobile lips, and he doesn’t look perturbed at all. In fact, the man looks quite pleased with himself.
“Don’t get all hot and bothered, sweetheart. I’m just asking because a lot of schools in NYC don’t field football teams. It’s tough, you know, with the lack of space in Manhattan. I guess they could practice at Randall’s Island, but I can’t think of any other venues.”
“They make do,” I huff, still steamed beyond belief. “Besides, what is your problem, Hunter? Why can’t I go out with a guy on Saturday night, like any other eighteen-year-old girl?”
The man of the house doesn’t answer me right away.
Instead, his blue eyes drop from my angry, heated face, to the swell of my bosom, to my narrow waist and flared hips, and finally, to the black thigh-high boots that I still have on.
I have to admit that they’re saucy with a subtle leather shine, and a sexy, five-inch heel.
They’re exactly what a hooker might wear, which is the point.
I wanted to tease Stan tonight, but it seems like these boots have gotten me into a different kind of trouble.
“The problem, Nova,” my stepfather enunciates in a low voice, vibrating with emotion, “is that I can’t let you go out dressed like that. It’s unseemly.”
“Because I look like a slut?” I demand. “Because I don’t look the way you want me to look? But guess what, Hunter? It’s not your business because I’m not your daughter,” I sneer. “How I dress doesn’t concern you!”
Those blue eyes flare, although Hunter doesn’t move from his seat.
“This is my house, Nova,” he hisses. “Never forget that.”
But those words only make me angrier.
“Oh yeah? Well, I might as well be a ghost living here because ever since you kissed me on New Year’s Eve, you haven’t done a damned thing to acknowledge it!
I could be dead to you! I could be invisible!
Who does that, anyways? Who kisses and caresses a young woman, only to turn a cold cheek afterwards, pretending like I don’t even exist? ”
Hunter’s big form is so still now, that it vibrates from his seated position on the couch. There’s tension coming off his massive frame, like he’s a huge cat about to pounce.
“I’ve been avoiding you because I want what’s best for you, Nova,” he says through gritted teeth, those blue eyes glowing. “Trust me. It’s not because I don’t want to touch you. It’s because I can’t .”
“ And why not ?” I scream, practically hysterical now. “Is it because I’m gross? I’m fat? Because I’m on birth control, which means I’m sleeping with other guys?”
“ Are you ?” Hunter demands in a tight voice, his big hands gripping the arms of the sofa now, knuckles bone-white. He leans forward, unconsciously signaling how important my answer is to him. “Sleeping with other men, I mean?”
“It’s none of your business, but what do you think?” I shriek, my blonde hair practically electrified with rage now. “Why would I need birth control otherwise?”
Of course, I’m not sleeping with anyone, but Hunter doesn’t have to be let in on that particular fact. It’s not his business and by now, I’m so angry that flames dart from my yes. The man of the house can go to hell.
Yet never underestimate an alpha male because Hunter’s as still as a statue one moment, my words churning in the air between us. Then, he strikes like lightning. Before I can process what’s happening, Hunter’s on me, his mouth ravaging mine as his big hands manhandle my body.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you.”
I want to tell him that I was just baiting him, and that no one’s touched me but him, but the sensations coursing through my veins make it impossible for me to speak.
Hunter rips my jacket off my shoulders, before yanking my sweater over my head.
My big tits fall out, braless, and he groans while taking in the ivory mounds.
“Oh shit,” the alpha male groans before squeezing the flesh in his hands, pulling and twisting at the nipples. Hot jolts of pleasure go straight from my tits to my cunt, making me inhale with pleasure.
“Mmmm!” is my cry. “Oooh, Hunter!”
“Yes baby,” the alpha male groans, lifting each breast in a big hand before dropping his lips to place a kiss on each nipple. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this. How I keep seeing you like this again and again, all the time. You’ve been driving me crazy.”
Holy cow, is he speaking the truth? Has he been fantasizing about me ever since we had our illicit interlude on New Year’s Eve?
But I can’t stop to process because Hunter’s making me feel .
My leather mini-skirt is unzipped, dropping to the floor in a heap, revealing the tiniest black lace thong, the gusset already wet with my need.
“Fuck baby,” Hunter groans again, rubbing his hand along the outside of the fabric, the scratchiness making me cry out with pleasure again. “You look so beautiful like this.”
I know what he sees: a lush, teenage blonde, nude except for a tiny pair of panties and sky-high, fuck-me boots. But I want more.
“Please, Daddy,” I beg against his mouth. “Give it to me. I need it.”
“Oh, I’ll give it to you, baby girl,” he rasps in return before seizing my plush lips with that hard, masculine mouth. “There’s nowhere to run, sweetheart.”
But the problem is that I don’t want to run.
I mewl, going boneless, as the powerful alpha male seizes my panties in one big fist before ripping them off me and leaving me bare.
The shock of his action makes me gasp, but Hunter doesn’t stop.
Those big fingers gently stroke my labia, savoring the puffiness, before pulling them apart.
“Fuck baby,” he moans, looking down at my deep pink, glossy interior. “You need it, don’t you?”
Then, he does the same trick from last time: rubbing the underside of my stiff clit, and then stroking circles around it, before going back to rub the underside once more.
“Ahhh,” I gasp, literally feeling dizzy as my pussy floods his hand. “Oh Hunter, that feels so good!”
“I know, and you’re so responsive,” he mutters, watching avidly as my body responds. “Your tits are so big, and your pussy’s soaked, baby. I know you’re fertile. I can feel it.”
That’s weird because Hunter can’t possibly think I’m fertile.
He gave me the birth control pills himself!
But there’s no opportunity to clarify because Hunter pinches my clit then, and my knees really do give out.
I collapse into the big man’s arms, and he lets out a low chuckle, catching me just before I end up in a heap on the floor.
Then, he transports me over to the couch, spreading me out for his gaze with one leg lifted, and one leg on the ground.
My big breasts are like puddles of ice cream, ivory and begging to be kissed, and my pulsing pussy weeps, ready for his possession.