Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Eleanor
Finders keepers.
A n invisible noose tightens around my neck with each hour that passes. Christopher, at minimum, knows I am with Hunter, and while they have every indication we aren’t hiding out in his hometown, it doesn’t mean they won’t come looking for a trail that leads to me. It’s what I would do, and my gut tells me Hunter has already thought of this. But he’s weighed the possibilities and decided remaining here is still our best bet. I stop short of the front entryway, my breaths quick and short. When did my change to our ? I feel like I missed a level and suddenly, I am facing a boss level relationship.
His hand squeezes mine as he enters the code on the gate for the yard surrounding his home. “I want you to turn on your tracker and give me access. Do I need an app on my phone?”
My lips twitch. “You already have it on your phone, and if needed, you can turn it on at any point.”
His stride falters, and he spins to face me. His fingers grasp my chin, tilting my head back to stare in my eyes. “Since when?”
“Since we arrived.” His eyes close briefly, a muscle in his jaw fluttering. “No need to get excited. We discussed it in the car with Honor and Fox, and I acted as promised.”
He lets out a slow breath, slowly opening his eyes. “You forgot a major point, Eleanor.”
No, I didn’t. “What would that be?”
“If I don’t know I have it, how could I, in the event of not being able to find you, know to turn it on?”
I blink, my mouth pursing. I did forget that. “Well, now you know.”
“Show me.”
I glance around. “Out here?”
“Yes, Eleanor, out here so you can’t run away to your room.”
“I don’t run away,” I grumble.
This time his lips twitch. “We have something entirely different to finish once we get inside. Right now, I want to deal with any questions you have from our discussion with William and ensure I actually have access to this app.”
My body flushes, and my stomach flips. “But we won’t be in public putting on a show,” I whisper.
He tilts his head, and his hand slides along my chin, trailing a blazing path along my jaw before tangling in my hair. He fists it, the sting zapping down my spine and setting the already burning embers of desire aflame. “The way you felt in my arms is not acting, Eleanor. Your pliant body, the heat gathering between your legs, the small gasps and whimpers you made as I kissed your neck and jaw. The restless way you squirmed against me as you begged for my lips against yours. That was not acting, trouble. That was as real as it gets.”
He sees so much. “I?—”
He shakes his head and pushes his finger against my lips. “Before you rush to deny it, let’s deal with business first. Then you can strip out of your dry panties once we get inside and place them in my hand as proof you are unaffected.”
I scowl. I know I can’t do that, and so does he. “You have an odd obsession with my underwear.”
A slow smile creeps across his face. “That’s easily solved.”
I know I am going to kick myself for asking but... “How?”
“Stop wearing them.”
Called it.
He releases my hair and slides his phone from his pocket, unlocking it with his facial ID before handing it to me. I locate the app buried in a games folder. I know he doesn’t play them, so it was easy to hide it there. I tap it open and spin the phone back around. “It needs your face again. If anyone else tries to open it, the app automatically locks until I release it.”
“Makes sense.”
A lot of what I do makes sense. Unless it involves him.
The app opens to a simple map with a slider button for Ghost at the bottom. “It’s currently set to off, which is how it should stay in case your phone is somehow hacked. I wouldn’t want them accidentally having live access to my whereabouts.”
“Can I test it?”
“Sure.”
He flicks the button on, and the circle in the center whirls as it sends a signal to the tiny tracking device in my arm. Twenty seconds later, the map starts moving and pings as it zeros in on me. “Impressive.”
Not really. It’s no more impressive than Find My Phone, but it’s in a human rather than a piece of tech. “Now turn it off.” He does and pockets his phone.
“Do you have any questions about the meeting with William?”
“Carlson is C,” I check, even though I know.
“He is.”
“And William, Cheryl, and Carlson know who I am and who is after me.”
“Correct.”
“Do you trust them?”
“With my life.”
Oh, to have that level of confidence that someone has your back. I am envious. “Okay. Why does Cheryl want to spend time with me?” That is more terrifying than anything else discussed tonight. I couldn’t get a read on her.
He grabs my hand once more and tugs me toward the door. “Cheryl is the mama bear of the club. She wants to get to know you.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. “We need to get our story straight if I’m going to make her believe we are a couple.”
“Tomorrow, trouble. Right now, we need to finish what we started.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat. Do we, though? Thirty seconds later, we spill into the apartment, and my hands tremble at the thought of how our next conversation is going to turn out. It would be so easy to fall into something with Hunter. He makes me feel desirable in the shadows of the night, but when he discovers everything I’m hiding beneath my brains and blunt attitude, he’ll find me unworthy. Why would he stay? No one else has.
The door clicks closed behind me, and he spins, his hand grazing my hip as he flips the multiple locks. His eyes drop to my lips, and they tingle in awareness. I’ve been kissed before—it’s a natural prelude to sex—but I’ve never particularly enjoyed it. Kissing Hunter will be no different. I’ll come away confused as to why people put so much thought into kissing and place a heavy amount of emphasis on it being a wonderful act that melts them to the bone.
“I… I need the b-bathroom,” I stammer out. And maybe a moment to break this tension and compose myself.
The corner of his lip curls up. “I thought I told you I wouldn’t let you run off to your room.”
“Unless you are into some real freaky stuff involving urine, I do need to use the bathroom.”
“Freaky stuff, yes, but no urine.”
What kind of freaky stuff is on the tip of my tongue, but that seems like a dangerous question. As I duck under his arm and head for my bedroom, I glance around the apartment with a frown. Where is the sharp tip-tap of nails on the wooden floor?
Throwing my door open, I freeze. Hunter appears at my back, his heat washing down my spine as he too, stands in stupefied silence at the scene before us. Charlie spots us and barks with a smile before returning his gaze to his quarry inching across the bedroom floor like a very slow moving mouse.
Somehow, Charlie got into my bottom drawer and emptied it across the floor. In his excitement at finding something he probably knows is naughty, he managed to click on a small silver bullet vibrator, and is now doing this weird pounce and bounce around it as it shuffles across the bedroom.
“Your dog really is you,” I observe, given how Hunter is still holding one of my vibrators hostage.
“Jesus, how many do you have?” Hunter mutters behind me.
I glance over my shoulder at him. “When the only way to get the job done is solo, you put a little effort into it.”
He snorts like it’s a ridiculous notion the male kind has epically failed when it comes to conquering my orgasm. I move into the room and start scooping up the bright array of toys before dropping them inside the open drawer. They will need a clean later.
He shakes his head. “Wait. The extra case you packed wasn’t full of tech?”
“Clearly not.” And given my toy order has gone for a trip around the United States after being delivered to the wrong address—the one in Chicago—and is now being routed here, it solidifies my choice.
Charlie side-eyes me as I approach the one he turned on. It creeps across the floor, taunting him. Taunting me. Amusing Hunter. Don’t do it, Charlie. Don’t— He grins, dives on the toy, and rushes between Hunter’s legs to the living area.
Hunter swings a thumb over his shoulder. “I hope you know that’s a lost cause. How long does the battery last?”
I shrug as I find another vibrator that rolled under the bed. “An hour maybe?”
He leans his shoulder against the bottom post of the bed and folds his arms as he watches me crawl around on the floor.
“A little help?” I snap.
He grins and drops to his knees to collect a butt plug. Stupid, Ellie, so stupid. Now Hunter King is all over my toy collection.
“Lick it, and I will end you,” I warn.
“I only lick the ones dripping with your come, Ellie. You know that.”
My veins pump heat around my body at the visual. “I still need that back.”
He waves the butt plug around, lifting a brow. “Have you used this?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“No. I’ve not gotten that adventurous yet.” Shut up, Ellie.
He runs his tongue along his bottom lip and suddenly, I want to replace his tongue with mine.
“Your interpretation of being adventurous is to use a different toy?”
“What would you suggest I use?”
He smirks as he hands me the heavy metal butt plug, and I realize I have walked into a trap. “Me.”
I snort and drop the toy into the drawer, slamming it closed. The contents rattle around, taunting us both. He’s still on his knees and so am I. “Not likely.”
“Frightened?” His eyes, so dark I almost can’t see their color, dance.
“Of you? No.” Terrified.
“I bet I could make you come, Ellie.”
“Why do you keep changing what you call me?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not allowing you to wiggle out of this conversation with redirection. Though I’m both amused and ashamed you think it’s that easy to distract me.”
I level him with a look and force myself not to flinch from the heat of pure carnal desire in his gaze. “Women are excellent fakers. I’m sure you have an overinflated ego which helps you believe you can make me come when others have failed.”
“Prove it.”
I roll my eyes and rotate my neck as I warm up my superb acting skills. The first moan I let loose is low, a whimper more than anything else. My eyes fall closed, and I run my hands through my hair, tugging on it like Hunter did. My knees separate a little, and I work up in intensity, whispering his name before I arch my spine and pant a little faster. I cry out before opening my eyes, getting ready for Hunter’s assessment of my skills.
Instead, he leans forward on his hands, crawling closer to me with his pupils blown. He pauses so we aren’t touching, but if I breathe a little too fast, it would push my breasts against his chest. “I meant prove it by letting me try,” he utters hoarsely. My lips part, heat flaring in my cheeks. Oh. My bad. “But now you’ve shown me how you fake it, let me tell you exactly what I am going to do to make sure you are not coming once, but several times. And you will come, Ellie, around my fingers, on my tongue, and squeezing my cock.”
He bends his head and blows a breath down the valley of my breasts, goosebumps lifting along my chest. “First, I would peel off your shirt, so there’s one less barrier between us.”
“Going straight for the tits is a rookie move,” I reply. Perhaps I shouldn’t be worried about him sweeping me off my feet after all. But instead of elation, disappointment spears me.
“Who said I was going for your tits? Stop trying to control me, and let me spoil you the way you should be treasured. I’d run my fingertips from your wrists, up your arms, and sweep them over your shoulders and down your spine, chasing the gooseflesh erupting on your silken skin.”
Said gooseflesh prickles under my shirt. How...
“Then, I’d run my lips along the same path, pausing on your pulse points to apply a little pressure with my mouth, sucking until it throbs under my tongue.”
There’s definitely a throb starting, but much, much lower.
“When you start squirming restlessly beneath me, I’d peel back these tight jeans. You can keep the heels on. I’m looking forward to them digging in my back.”
That’s something I have never done before, but I can see the appeal. It’s a new level of naughty I want to revel in with him. “I’ll trail my fingers around your ankles, along your calves, pausing to caress the back of your knees. You’ll be super sensitive, and that area is full of nerve endings. It’s going to be unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. I’ll finish that first round of exploration on the outside of your thighs before repeating the path with my mouth. But this time, your legs will fall open as you wordlessly beg for the friction you need.”
My breathing stutters in my chest, and my face burns, but not with embarrassment. “Then what?” I can’t help but ask.
He grins, a baring of teeth full of carnal promise. I’m assuming he will go for the jackpot now and spoil the buildup. I’m simultaneously begging for him to do so and not. You cannot fall for this man, Ellie.
He inches closer, his shirt rubbing against mine, and I have to stifle the groan at the small contact. It’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough. His lips touch my ear, and his hands slide under my shirt to splay across my back. “Then, I’ll kiss and nibble over your stomach, along the edge of lace on your panties that drives me wild, before I head further up your body and press my tongue against your hard nipple through your bra. Has anyone ever sucked on your tits through the lace, Ellie?”
I shake my head and realize at some point I pushed my hands into his hair. My nails scrape against his scalp, and he groans, the sound reaching into my core as it tightens with desperation.
“Are you hot and needy yet?” he whispers against my ear. I... am I? Oh my god... No.
His hands tighten, keeping me pressed against him as he leans his head back to stare into my eyes. “Now tell me I can’t make you come.”
“You haven’t touched my clit. I hate to break it to you, but what you described is not going to cut it.”
“I didn’t ask if you had come, Eleanor, I asked you to tell me, with absolute truth, you still believe I can’t make you come.”
Arrogant asshole. I grit my teeth, fighting the trembling in my body. “I feel nothing.”
He drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “Nothing?”
“That’s right.”
“Then you won’t care if I kiss you.”
“Nope.”
He grins, and I realize his true goal. Well played. His mouth descends on mine. It’s not a clashing of teeth or a whisper of touch I’ve experienced too many times to count. His mouth is firm against mine as he lets the heat transfer between us. Our eyes open, and I stare at him in defiance. He sweeps the tip of his tongue along the seam of my lips, and they part for him without question. My eyes flutter closed as he coaxes me into falling into a kiss. Falling because my stomach dips like it does when a plane descends. That delicious sting is back on my scalp, and it’s playing havoc with my senses. He’s everywhere, surrounding me with his mouthwatering scent and careful, yet strong, hands. I pant into his mouth while melting into his hands. This is why people write sonnets about kisses. This is what I’ve been missing.
He pulls away, and my eyes flutter open. His mouth is swollen, and I want nothing more than to push him to the floor, climb on top of him, and kiss him until we can’t breathe.
“Still nothing?” he checks, his eyes nearly black with need.
I shake my head, sucking my lips into my mouth and tasting him there. I can’t physically speak my lies—he’ll see right through them.
He sighs. “Then I’ll leave you to your toys.”
He pulls away, and cold air nips at my flesh as he leaves my space. My arm stretches toward him, but the words are stuck in my throat. Wait. Then he’s out of the room, and the outer door slams closed. He left? He. Left. I growl and yank open the bottom drawer. I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone. Time to remind myself of this right here, right now.
I stare at my options, fury and desire making my hands shake. But toys don’t kiss. Fuck.