Chapter 30 I Might Combust #2
I nod and push my hands against the edge of the tub, determined to get to my feet on my own so I can undress.
My weight lands wrong on my good leg, my balance pitches forward, and I go to brace myself on the one that’s in the cast without thinking.
The second it hits the floor, pain shoots up my side.
I hiss, stumbling back, clenching my teeth.
Hunter’s hands are on me instantly, firm around my waist, steadying me before I can fall.
“I’ve got it,” I snap, shrugging his hands away.
The words come out sharper than I mean them to.
He freezes for half a second before stepping back, hands dropping to his sides, giving me space without argument.
A heavy sigh slips out of me as I sit back on the edge of the tub and peer up at him.
“I’m sorry. It’s just… It’s frustrating.” I point to my leg, to my head. “I’m so over it. The stupid cast. Needing help just to stand.” I glance away, blinking hard. “I want to feel normal again.”
He stands in front of me, one hand sliding under my chin, tipping my face up until I have no choice but to look at him and his handsome face.
“Baby,” he says, his thumb brushing along my jaw, “you are human. You don’t need to apologize. You’re allowed to feel frustrated. To be over it all.” His gaze doesn’t waver. “I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to be in your position, but I am here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He shifts closer. “Take it all out on me if you need to. Yell at me. Push me away. Feel it. All of it, because that’s the only way through.
Some days are going to be worse than others.
” He pauses, pressing his forehead briefly to mine.
“But the good days will come, and when they do, they’ll far outweigh the bad ones. I promise you.”
My chest swells, and those three little words, the ones that have been hovering on the tip of my tongue all week, beg to be let out.
I bite down on my cheek, holding them back.
I’m not quite sure he’s ready to hear them.
Not sure we’re there yet. I haven’t forgotten about the letters.
About his past. I’ve just needed a moment of peace from them.
Time to breathe. Time to let him have the space to bring them up on his own.
“Thank you for being so patient with me,” I say.
He smiles. “Come on, let’s get you in the bath before the water goes cold.”
Five minutes later, I’m sinking into the steaming water. The heat seeps into my muscles, loosening the tight knots I didn’t realize I was holding, the ache in my shoulders easing as the bubbles slide over my skin, and my head falls back against the tub.
Hunter sits on the stool, his steady hands helping me keep my leg propped on the stack of towels, and I let my eyes flutter shut.
“Fuck,” I moan. “That feels so good.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Shit, honey,” he mutters. “You can’t moan like that.”
I crack one eye open, catching him shifting on the stool, jaw tight, gaze fixed very deliberately on the wall above my head.
A different kind of heat blooms low in my core. I bite down on my lip, my body arching slightly beneath the water in a quiet challenge. His eyes don’t move, and something stubborn lights up inside me. I want him to look. I want him to see what he does to me.
Trailing my hands up my sides, the water ripples through the bath, bubbles shifting and parting as my hands find my breasts.
I cup them, lingering, just long enough for Hunter’s restraint to fracture.
He looks down—just for a second—before his eyes snap back to the wall, a low groan breaking free in the silence.
That sound? That’s enough to spur me on.
I let out another breathy moan as I pinch my hardening nipples. Hunter’s gaze finally breaks free, dragging slowly down the length of me before lifting back to my face. When our eyes lock, something raw flickers there. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, and he shifts again.
“Please,” he says, his voice turning husky. “Stop.”
“What if I don’t want to?” My voice is quiet, testing.
“You can’t… we can’t.” He stumbles over his words, like he’s trying to convince both of us.
“I think I know what my body can handle and what it can’t,” I say, not backing down.
My hand drifts beneath the surface of the water.
Hunter inhales sharply, squeezing the edge of the tub, every muscle in his body coiled tight.
Candlelight flickers across his face, shadows deepening in his eyes as he rakes a hand through his hair.
For a second, hesitation flashes across his features.
Then he exhales, the tension between us thick enough to choke on.
His hand drops, adjusting his growing cock, and the sight of it sends a warm rush through me.
“Are you going to touch yourself under there, baby?” His voice is rough, eyes locked on where my hand disappeared.
My breath stutters as my fingers slip over my clit. A whimper falls from my lips before I can stop it, my core tightening as I give into the sensations coursing through my body.
I need this. Need to let go, and if he won’t do it… I will.
“You could always help,” I murmur.
“We can’t get your leg wet.”
“There are other ways,” I say, my gaze dipping below his hips before lifting back to his face.
My fingers slide through my center, and I arch again, a rush of heat crawling up my neck as everything inside me pulses with need.
“What other ways?” he rasps.
“Take yourself out,” I whisper. “Let me watch you while you watch me.”
His eyes dart to my leg, checking it’s still propped safely, before he moves closer, kneeling beside the tub.
His hand slips into the water, fingers finding mine and brushing them away.
He teases me, tracing the lines of my pussy.
The sound that breaks free from me should be mortifying, but the way he looks at me—focused, mesmerized, undone—as he slips two fingers inside, makes it impossible to care.
He pumps in and out of me, and I rock into him, need taking over until my leg begins to tremble.
His focus shifts instantly, concern cutting through the moment, and he pulls back.
The loss of him leaves me aching, and I let out a small, helpless protest. He chuckles as he settles back on the stool, his hand disappearing into his shorts.
I watch as he frees his hard cock, his chest rising and falling in rough pants.
A needy sound escapes me, my focus narrowing until there’s nothing but him—sweet and dangerous all at once.
His jaw tightens as he strokes himself, and a bead of pre-cum gathers at the tip, shining in the candlelight.
I can feel his eyes on me, counting my breaths, watching every movement I make in the steaming water. The control he’s clinging to thins with every stroke.
“Baby, do you see what you fucking do to me?” His hand tightens, knuckles whitening as he strokes himself harder. “I’ll do anything you ask. You want to watch me fuck my hand while I watch you fuck yours?”
“Yes,” I gasp, the word breaking apart as it leaves me. “That’s what I want.”
He shoves his shorts down his hips. His forearm flexes as he grips himself, muscles jumping with every stroke.
I slide my hand back beneath the water. My fingers toy with my clit, teasing in slow circles that send sparks skating up my spine.
My thighs tense. When I slip two fingers inside, my pussy clenches and pulses around them like it’s already begging.
My eyes roll back, a moan tearing free as the air thickens once more.
When I look at him again, he’s watching.
His eyes are blown dark, fixed on the way my hand moves, the way my breasts rise and fall.
His throat works as he swallows. The muscles in his neck strain, abs tightening as his pace falters, then turns desperate.
Every stroke of his hand mirrors mine, the space between us charged and crackling as we watch one another.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants, the words tumbling out as his breathing turns ragged. “You’re fucking incredible.”
My fingers move faster, slick sounds muffled by the water as my thumb finds my clit and presses just right.
Our eyes collide, his gaze burning into me, and all I can feel is his hands on me. All I see is my hand wrapped around his cock. My pulse quickens, heart crashing against my ribs.
“Hunter,” I whisper, his name a plea.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna. Come. Need—”
His jaw snaps shut. His body coiling tight, legs stiffening as he jerks once, twice, spilling over himself.
The sight of his stomach covered in white ropes of cum drives me right over the edge, and I curl my fingers deeper, hitting that delicious spot.
Pleasure shoots down my spine, stealing the breath from my lungs.
My mouth falls open as my body clamps around my fingers, hips lifting, chasing it, riding the wave as my orgasm tears through me.
When my heartbeat finally slows and feeling seeps back into my toes, I ease my fingers free, the water rippling around me.
“Fuck.” He blows out a breath. “That was so hot. I’m sorry I couldn’t last longer.”
I giggle. “I was right there with you.”
My leg starts to protest where it’s been propped awkwardly, the water cooling against my skin now that the heat has faded. I shift, wincing a little.
“Time to get out?” he asks, a lazy smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Please,” I say, smiling back.
He reaches for the hand towel and cleans himself up. When his shorts are back in place, he offers me his hand and helps me out of the bath. Cool air kisses my skin, and I shiver, goosebumps rising as Hunter wraps a towel around my shoulders.
Exhaustion settles into my bones, heavy and sweet. My body feels looser than it has in weeks.
“Best bath ever,” I murmur, watching him lean over and blow out the candles one by one.
The smile he gives me melts something inside me.
He gets me settled into bed, the dark sheets cool and crisp beneath me, and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek before turning away.
Moonlight spills through the window, casting a glow across the room.
He crosses to the dresser, opens the drawer, and pulls out the stack of letters.
My breath stutters. The room seems to tilt as my heart drops, sinking straight to my feet.
He holds them up for me to see, then slides them back into the drawer, closing it shut.
Confusion sweeps through me, and I pause, letting my chest rise and fall as I wait, giving him the space to find the words he’s been holding back.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about them since you woke up,” he says. “I just… didn’t want to cause any more pain while you were healing.”
He settles next to me, the mattress dipping under his weight. His fingers find mine and hold on tight.
I squeeze his hand in return, a silent answer. I’m here. I’m listening.
“That day… They were in my bag. I was going to give them to Halle. To be done with it all.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Then I got caught up in Xavier touching you, and I just needed you. Needed you to know I was all in. One hundred percent.”
His thumb strokes my hand. Eyes meeting mine.
“And then you fell.” His words crack. “I thought I lost you. I’ve never been so scared in my life. That night…” He swallows. “It was the worst night of my life. Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper into the darkness, though my chest aches with the weight of it.
“I read them,” he adds. “All of them. I gave Halle hers, too.”
“You did?” The words come out quiet but stunned.
“Of course. I told you I was going to prove that you’re it for me. I don’t want anything standing between us.”
“How did Halle take them?” I ask, even as my thoughts scatter, trying to keep up.
He tells me everything that happened between them, how it unfolded, the hard parts, the honesty of it, and my heart pinches. Pride swells in me. They’ve come so far together. From misunderstanding to clarity. From all that pain to peace.
He did it.
I knew he would.
“Wow,” I say. “Are you okay?”
He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. “You fell from a cliff, were in a coma for days, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”
“Well, yeah,” I smile at him, “this is huge.”
His gaze drops, the humor fading. “I should have given Halle the letters sooner. I should have listened to you. Instead, I kept putting it off.”
The honesty in his voice moves through me, settling deep. It hits me then, how often we live inside should-haves and what-ifs, letting them haunt the present. I don’t want that. I don’t want us to be that.
“I want to try something new,” I say, holding his gaze.
He doesn’t rush me. His hand lifts, fingers tracing along my brow.
“I want to leave the past where it belongs,” I continue, tapping his chest lightly, “and I want to live here. In the present. For the future. No more should-haves. No more what-ifs.”
A slow smile curves around his mouth. “Fuck, I really love the sound of that.”
“Promise?” I hold my pinky out between us.
He hooks his with mine and smiles. “Promise.”
“I have one last should-have I’d like to say.” He rolls onto his side, bracing himself on his elbow, leaning in until his lips barely graze mine, close enough to feel but not touch.
“Oh…”
“I love you,” he says. Simple. Certain. Then it spills out of him, like he can’t hold it back any longer.
“I love you so fucking much, it consumes me. You’re all I see.
All I want. Then, now, forever.” His forehead rests against mine.
“I should have told you a long time ago. It’s always been you, Madison. Only ever you.”
His mouth finds mine, and my thoughts scatter, blown apart by the weight of his words. Heat rushes through me. My heart races, and butterflies tear loose in my stomach. I kiss him back with everything I have, and breathe him in, anchoring myself to the feel of him.
When he pulls back, his smile is so wide, it steals what little breath I have left.
“I love you too,” I whisper. “So much. Always have, always will.”