Prologue #4
I wanted to touch him so bad it hurt. My arm twitched before I could stop it, fingers curling, and for a second, I thought about crossing the water separating us and just sinking my hands into his hair.
But I didn’t.
I kept both hands flat against the dock behind me, nails biting into the splintered wood, like maybe that would keep me from doing something stupid and irreparable.
There was something about the way he watched me now that made me feel like I was the only thing left in Willow Grove. No Ella, no expectations, none of the invisible lines that had always kept me in check.
Just the two of us, and all of my excuses burning away before I could stop them.
His eyes locked on mine, dark and endless, and every ounce of anger and want and pride tangled itself up inside me and squeezed my lungs tight.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I breathed, and his mouth twitched, eyes still burning into mine.
He didn’t answer at first, and the ache that lived behind my ribs when he was around twisted tighter, every second stretching out until it was all I could do to pretend I had even an ounce of control over myself.
But I was so damn tired of pretending, tired of measuring my every move against a set of rules no one else seemed to be playing by.
“I always look at you like this.” His eyes dropped to my mouth.
For a second, I let myself imagine a world where I could just reach for him, where it didn’t keep score, and love wasn’t something you had to be worthy of.
I imagined how it would feel to tangle my fingers in his hair, to bury my face against his chest, and to hear the sound of his laugh when it wasn’t filtered through sarcasm or old wounds.
I wanted to know if he would taste just as I imagined, if he would taste like home.
But wanting and doing were two different things, and I’d spent my whole life drawing lines so straight I could walk them in my sleep.
“What are you thinking right now?” I forced the words out as I searched his eyes.
Hunter’s head tilted just a little, his hair falling in his eyes. “I was just thinking about how good you are.”
I winced. His words stung, even if he hadn’t meant for them to.
“You’re always so good to everyone. What do you do for Maggie?” he asked quietly, sinking lower into the water.
“What do you mean?” I asked quietly as the water lapped against my throat.
“I mean, what do you do that’s only for you and no one else?
” His gaze traced my collarbones before moving to my lips where they lingered long enough to make my breath catch in my throat.
When his eyes finally locked with mine again, they were darker than before, and the water suddenly felt too warm against my skin.
“You’re always so responsible. You deserve to do something reckless for once. ”
My knuckles whitened against the dock as heat pooled in my belly. Every inch of my skin hummed with awareness, begging to be touched. The only reckless thing I’d ever wanted was right in front of me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin, and still so goddamn out of reach.
“And what is it that you suggest I do?” I sounded as desperate as I felt.
“Whatever the hell you want, Mags.” His eyes dropped to my lips again, lingering there with such heat that my heart hammered against my ribs as I gathered every ounce of courage I had. He made me feel reckless when I knew I shouldn’t be.
“And if that’s you?” The words escaped in a whisper, and I watched his pupils dilate, darkening his eyes.
“Maggie,” he breathed, the sound vibrating through the water between us. His hand moved through the water, skimming over my waist so gently I feared I imagined it, and my body strained toward him like a compass finding north.
So I reached for the invisible line between us and set it on fire. I kicked away from the dock, water sloshing up over my shoulders, and closed the distance. My hand found the back of his neck, his skin hot beneath my fingertips, and I felt a shiver course down both of us.
His breath hitched against my cheek, so close I could taste it, and the rest of the world disappeared.
For a second, he stilled, every muscle in his body tensed as if I’d shocked him. His fingers hovered at my waist like he didn’t trust himself to touch me and not break something. Maybe both of us.
He dragged in a breath before his forehead pressed against mine. “Mags.”
“This is what I want,” I whispered as I buried my hand in his hair. “Please don’t push me away.”
His breathing changed, and the sound of it hit me hard. For a long moment, neither of us moved, but my body wouldn’t stop shaking.
His hands moved slowly, carefully, under the water until his palms settled on my rib cage. “Tell me to stop,” he said against my lips.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out but a shuddering breath as my bare breasts pressed against his chest. His grip tightened, his hands wide and greedy, and I knew if I told him to stop he would. He’d let me go like none of this ever happened.
But I didn’t tell him to stop. Instead, my body arched into him, begging for more, and everything inside me felt desperate.
“God, Mags.” He ducked his head, pressing his cheek just below my jaw as he breathed me in. “Fuck, you smell like cherries.” His words scraped across my skin, and I could barely drag in a breath. I couldn’t think, not with the water sliding across my skin and his hands branding my ribs.
I should have pushed him away, should have remembered every reason I had fought so hard to keep this line between us intact. But I didn’t. I tilted my head back, and when his lips touched my jaw softly, I whimpered.
I tightened my hands around his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair and tugging just enough to make his breath catch.
The water lapped between us as I lifted myself until I could wrap my legs around his waist. His hands shot to my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he adjusted his footing on the bottom of the lake and held me a breath away from where I wanted to be.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he murmured as his thumbs dug into my hip bones.
“I don’t care,” I whispered against his mouth as I locked my ankles behind his back and arched into him, feeling him shudder as I closed the last inch between us.
He groaned, and the sound was so raw, it sounded as if it were ripped straight out of his chest. I felt it everywhere, echoing through my bones, and I’d never felt so alive. I shifted against him, bare skin sliding over slick muscle, and every inch of me sparked with heat.
I tightened my legs around his waist, seeking friction against the insistent ache between my thighs. My whole body throbbed when I felt him hard against my center.
His fingers became bruising on my hips, holding me captive against him, and I could feel my heartbeat everywhere as my chest crushed against his.
“You’re fucking trouble,” he breathed against my skin as his mouth brushed over the curve where my neck met my shoulder. “You’ll be the death of me.”
His teeth grazed my skin, and his breath had gone wild against my throat. I barely recognized the noises coming out of my mouth. I was panting, and my nails dug into his shoulders.
“You’re the one who encouraged me to be reckless.
” I didn’t want this to end. Not now, not ever, and that was so damn dangerous.
I wanted to drown in it, in him, in the ache and the heat and the way my whole body burned when he touched me.
There was nothing left but skin and want and the messy way I rocked my hips against him.
I needed him more than I’d ever let myself need anything and feeling how badly he needed me, wanted me, pressed thick and hard between my legs was nearly enough to undo me.
“I said you were trouble,” he grumbled. “Not that I didn’t like your kind of trouble.”
“I want to be trouble with you,” I moaned.
He went still before he stared up at me with his chest heaving, and the look in his eyes was something I’d never seen before.
Not even with my sister. But Ella didn’t fit into this moment.
This was just me and him. I could feel his wild, barely controlled hunger everywhere.
I let my head fall back, baring my throat, not caring how desperate I seemed, because I was.
I was desperate for him, for the way he made every inch of me feel wild and alive.
He pressed closer, pinning me against the dock, and his hands moved up my body, gently cupping my breasts. His palms were rough as they slid up, thumbs catching the hard peaks of my nipples. I opened my mouth, but all that came out was a broken sound, half whimper, half plea.
I rocked forward shamelessly, thighs clenching around his waist, and he pressed his hips hard against mine.
“Fuck, Maggie.” The words vibrated through his chest and into mine, his lips grazing my ear.
“Do you feel how hard I am for you?” He pressed his hips forward, the hard length of him sliding against my pussy, and my breath caught as he did it again, slower this time.
“I’ve wanted this for so long I can’t even remember what it’s like to not want you. ”
I moaned, clutching at him like I could anchor us in the wild place where this wanting lived. I wanted to lose myself in him and the heady ache of my need. I wanted to keep him here and not think about anyone but us.
But then the sharp, insistent ring of my phone split the quiet, and I jerked away from him slightly as if I’d been caught.
“Do you need to get that?” he asked as his thumb ran over my nipple, harder than before.
“No.” I shook my head. “Whoever it is can wait.”
“Good.” He grinned, then his head dropped and his tongue lapped at my nipple before one of his arms wrapped around my back and he lifted me higher out of the water.
He sucked my nipple into his mouth, and every inch of his body pressed into mine, all muscle and heat and the wildness I’d been trying to deny since the day I met him.