Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Eleanor
Daddy can have so many meanings.
I don’t know what I was expecting for the home of a gruff, leather wearing, biker bad boy to resemble, but it was not this. Where’s the converted warehouse with sliding metal doors and loud graffiti on the walls? The unkept bachelor pad with garbage-strewn floors and empty beer bottles littering chipped furniture that’s seen better days? His home is the antithesis of this. It’s full of warmth and light and well-built antique furniture. It’s lived in but clean. Organized but homely. It’s everything I can’t achieve but wished for.
The main living space is an open floor plan, much like my own. The living area is delineated by an overstuffed cream sectional couch surrounding a thick oak table. A neutral kitchen fills the back wall, separated by a wide island with a reclaimed wooden worktop. There are three stools tucked under for easy living, but also a wide wooden dining table with mismatched yet somehow cohesive chairs.
Hunter waves his hand across the space. “Living area is pretty self explanatory.” He starts down the hallway, and I follow him with my bag in hand. He insists on carrying my suitcase.
He opens the first door on the left. “Bathroom.” I glance around the spotless space, clocking the large sunken tub, toilet, and sink. There’s no shower or bathing products, so it’s clearly not the one he uses.
He opens the next door, revealing a cream and gray bedroom featuring a high four poster bed with swaths of gauzy fabric twisted around the spindles. “This is your room,” he explains, sliding my suitcase on top of the fur blanket covering the foot of the bed. He jerks his head at a set of double doors before opening them. “Shared walk-in closet. I’ll make room for your things.”
I wander in after him. Damn, being a biker apparently pays well. There’s another door at the other end and one in the center of the space on the far wall. He cuts into the one at the center. “Shared shower room. You are welcome to use this or the bath. Whatever works.”
“Shower,” I say without thinking through the shared part. I don’t do baths. Washing in your own stink seems counterproductive. My lip curls as I glance into the pristine space.
His lips twitch as he leads us to the other end of the room and throws open the door to a bedroom twice the size of the guest room. The bed is huge, and the decor is darker, in rich navies with mahogany furniture. It smells like him. Wild, rich, masculine. Delicious. Oh. Fuck me. Stay focused, Eleanor. Come up with a plan, get back to Jonathan, and finish this. My eyes catch on the ceiling, and I blink as I push past him. I don’t know whether to be impressed or disturbed by the circular mirror above his bed. A little of both, perhaps.
“My room.”
“Do you enjoy looking at yourself while you fall asleep?”
He snorts and leans down so his breath tickles my ear. “It’s not for sleeping, Ellie.”
A thousand wild and dirty images flit through my mind. How his ass would look as he powers inside of me. His body covering mine, pinning me to his enormous bed. Me riding him with my head thrown back so I can watch the way our sweat-slicked bodies move together. I take a step back and bump into him. That’s just about enough of that.
His hand lands on my hip, the heat a brand through my jeans. “I’d be happy to demonstrate.”
“Feel free, but it will be solo. Hope you enjoy the sight of your own hand.”
Heat blooms on my cheeks at the thought. Clever, Eleanor, so freaking clever. Now I’ll picture him masturbating in the middle of his giant bed while he watches himself. What will he think about while he does?
I spin on my heel and hightail it out of the room, through the walk-in closet, and into my own, less provocative, bedroom. Hunter’s warm chuckle echoes after me, and it flips something low in my stomach. Must be all the high carb, trans fat laden snacks we ate on the journey. That’s what it is.
Hunter doesn’t follow me, but I hear him moving around in his room as he unpacks and replaces items in his bathroom. I undo my suitcase full of worn clothing and underwear. Ugh, I didn’t really think or plan this well. I don’t even have anything decent to sleep in. I move ordering clothing to the top of my to-do list. I glance over my shoulder, biting my lip and tapping my fingers against my thigh. I’m not sure how long Hunter is going to keep up this act of heroism, but when he realizes sex isn’t in the cards, he will lose interest in me and my troubles. I’m a job for him with the potential of an added perk, nothing more. I could always retreat to one of my hidden properties, but my heart squeezes at the thought of facing Jonathan alone. I don’t know why. I’ve always worked like this. I even keep Uncle Steven at arm’s length to ensure his safety and survival, and Jonathan knows his face. My shoulders slump. I guess he knows Hunter’s now too.
A click comes from the main living area, and in a breath, Hunter is in my room with his finger pressed against his lips and a gun at his side. Cold focus calms my nerves as I retrieve my own weapon with a nod. There’s a feminine murmur from behind the door that grows clearer as Hunter inches the gap wider. His shoulders drop with a sigh before flicking the safety on the gun and shoving it in the waistband of his jeans.
“Hunter?” a melodic voice rings out. “I got your message and came over straight away.”
“You issued a booty call from my car? Classy,” I mutter. Guess that answers my question on how serious he is about pursuing me.
He snorts as he flings open the bedroom door, grabs my hand, and yanks me down the hallway into the great room. I tug on his hold.
“That’s right! Daddy’s home early,” she sing-songs.
Daddy? Is that a kink, or is Hunter about to introduce me to his love child? I glare at the beast dragging me down the hall. I have no idea what’s worse.
A stunning young woman with long straight brown hair glances up at us. She raises a perfectly plucked brow in my direction.
“Hi.” She beams as she steps out from behind the couch and lets go of something. Tapping echoes on the wooden floor as a bundle of black and white fluff barrels toward Hunter. Shit! Not a child, but something so much worse. A dog. Fear and panic blaze through me, my legs stiff as time seems to move in slow motion.
His hand grips mine tighter as he senses my resistance. I yank harder, planning the best way to barricade myself inside my bedroom.
“Eleanor, meet Charlie,” Hunter says with a soft, warm, affectionate voice. Still holding my hand, he drops to his knees as Charlie, the bloodthirsty, sharp-toothed beast, wiggles his body into Hunter’s lap and slams his paws on his shoulders.
“He’s attacking you,” I squeak as bile rises in my throat.
“Charlie?” The young woman laughs. “With licks and kisses maybe, but that pooch has never even growled in anger.”
With one arm wrapped under Charlie’s butt, Hunter stands and turns to me.
“Hey. Look at me.” Is he kidding? Take my eyes off the beast? “Eleanor, please look at me.” I tear my gaze free and focus on Hunter. His eyes soften. “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you.”
My hand slips free, and I take a step backward. “He’s very mobile,” I settle on as Charlie wiggles in Hunter’s arms and locks eyes with me. Green. I have never seen a dog with green eyes. They are wide with excitement as he takes me in. Hunter drops back to the ground and deepens his voice.
“Charlie, sit,” he instructs. The beast plonks his ass on the floor, one hind leg poking out at the side like it’s too big for his body. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, disproportionately long for his size.
“Charlie is a two-year-old English cocker spaniel. He’s loving and caring, but crazy. He hasn’t outgrown his puppy energy yet, but he isn’t going to hurt you.”
I swallow against the tightness in my throat, trying to separate my childhood experience from the wide-eyed excitement filling Charlie. But all I can see is his eagerness to rip out my throat. Fear is not rational, I remind myself. It comes from an inherent need to survive, to avoid pain and conflict. And it’s protected me until now.
“I’ll leave his bag here,” the pretty girl says, but I don’t take my eyes off Charlie. “Dad says to give him a call as soon as you are settled.” The door snicks shut behind her.
Wait. The dog lives here? With Hunter? Oh no. No. Nope. Not happening.
“Come,” Hunter coaxes as he stretches out a hand to me.
A nervous laugh escapes my lips. “Hate to break it to you, but women don’t orgasm on the spot simply because you command it.”
He rolls his eyes. “Come here, Eleanor.”
Charlie’s tail thumps against the floor in a quick excited beat, jolting my nerves. Hunter furrows his brow and tilts his head. “He wants to meet you.”
“More like eat me,” I mumble.
“Ever heard the expression ‘he’s more afraid of you than you are of him’?”
“He doesn’t look afraid.”
Hunter sighs, then fast as lightning, snaps to his feet, grabs my wrist, and yanks me down. My eyes squeeze closed as my trembling fingers glide through warm velvet fur. Hunter’s hand gently closes over the back of mine, and he moves them in tandem to stroke Charlie. There’s no growl of warning, no sharp bite of pain, no terror. My eyes flutter open to find Charlie baring his teeth at me, and my heart stills. I jerk back, but Hunter holds me steady.
“He’s showing his teeth. He’s not happy,” I whisper, fighting to keep my voice steady.
Hunter scratches behind Charlie’s ear, and he pushes against his hand. “He’s smiling at you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Dogs do not smile.”
“This one does. He learned early on it gets him more attention. They are smart and imitate human behavior.”
“It’s disconcerting.”
“You get used to it. There you go. See? Nothing but love in this wiggly body.” Without realizing it, I’ve started to stroke Charlie of my own accord. He does have the silkiest fur I have ever touched. My heart slows, and the trembling abates.
“Admit it,” Hunter says.
“Admit what?”
“You like him.”
My lips twist to the side as Charlie’s piercing green gaze meets mine. “He,” I sigh, finding none of the aggression I’d seen all those years ago, “isn’t horrible.”
Then he speaks and shatters all my peace. “Good, because I have to go out for a while. Gives you both some time to get acquainted. After all, you are sleeping in his bed. Seems fair he should get cuddles as payment.”
Well, fuck.