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  “Can I help you?” I was proud that my voice didn’t shake, because everything else was trembling. Hunter Rhodes was standing at my door. Almost all of my fantasies started with this moment.

  “Eliza,” he said in a husky voice as he leaned against the doorframe.

  Hearing my name come from his mouth made my heart stop a beat. He did know who I was. I had no idea how to respond, so I went with, “Yes?”

  His gaze traveled over my body in a way I’d never experienced before. Sure, sometimes men looked in my general direction, but I wasn’t the sexpot type. If I’d ever seen that expression on a man’s face before, it had been when I was out with Sophie and guys gawked at her as she passed by.

  Never me.

  I’d hung out with her enough to see that look and it was something I’d never imagined I could elicit.

  Yet here Hunter was, staring at me with hunger and intensity.

  Though I was wearing pink Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and a matching cami, I felt naked under his scrutiny. My breasts became heavy, the nipples hardening underneath the tight thin material. I crossed my arms over my chest.

  His continued silence made me edgy. I had to break the silence. Had to distract myself from the way he was now—and had always—made me feel.

  “What’s going on? Why did you come here?” I said, then realized my tone was more accusatory then I’d intended. My fear was making me seem almost angry.

  “I’m here for you,” he said simply, his voice husky.

  Heat spread between my legs as the four loaded words hung in the air. The man hadn’t even acknowledged my existence earlier today, and hours later he was standing at my door saying he was here for me. I had to be dreaming.

  One corner of his mouth quirked up in the sexist smile I’d ever seen and I about melted to the floor. “That’s quite the outfit you’ve got on, Eliza.”

  Again my name came from his mouth like a lover’s caress, soft but husky, wrapping around me in the same way I wished his arms would.

  My cheeks burned. “I wasn’t expecting company.” I felt like I wanted to disappear.

  But Hunter shook his head. “It wasn’t an insult. I like the way you look.”

  “Did Sophie put you up to this or something?” I asked, at a loss for what was happening. The only other possibility now was that this was one big joke at my expense.

  Slowly, almost lazily, he straightened his large, muscular frame.

  “Nobody put me up to this,” he said, his voice cool and confident.

  Though he was still in the hall, a good two feet from me, he dominated my personal space, made it hard for me to breath, think. It was extremely unfair that he seemed so relaxed while I was standing here a ball of exposed nerves. One touch from the man and I would come out of my skin.

  In fear that I would do something insanely stupid, like beg him to take me right here in front of the door, I crossed my arms tighter around me as I watched him take something out of his back pocket. As he brought his hand around, the first thing I noticed was the pastel blue stationary. My stationary. Gasping, I pressed both hands to my mouth, unable to take my eyes of my letter.

  The paper was no longer in pristine condition like it had been when I’d snuck it into his backpack the night before he left for boot camp. Years had aged the stationary to a dingy blue. A corner had been torn off if the jagged edges were any indication. The places where I had delicately folded the letter were thinner and darker than the rest of the letter.

  He had read my letter. A lot.

  Lowering my hands, I finally lifted my eyes to his. “You kept it?” was all I could get out.

  “Yes.”

  Words were nowhere. My mind was a jumbled mess. None of this made sense. He was Superman Hunter Rhodes. I was Nobody Eliza Garrett. We were from two different worlds.

  He stepped over the threshold, into my tiny one bedroom apartment, further into my personal space, so close all I had to do was raise my hand and I would finally touch him the way I had in so many fantasies. I desperately wanted to trace each letter of Hunter’s name on his chest with my fingertip and feel his muscles jump underneath my light touch, but I resisted the urge and kept my arms at my side.

  He didn’t stop moving until he was right in front of me, towering over me, causing me to tilt my head back so I could continue looking at his face. He was that close. So deliciously close.

  My lungs squeezed tight. I couldn’t get a good breath. All the air seemed sucked from the room. I felt lightheaded. The heat of his body radiated toward me. His minty breath fanned my face. His woodsy cologne teased my nose. I was on sensory overload.

  “Why did you write the letter, Eliza?” he asked, finally.

  There was an intensity to his voice that matched his unwavering, hypnotic eyes.

  He was overwhelmingly terrifying. I was worried I’d admit too much, leave myself exposed and vulnerable to a man that had ignored me in public.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered, taking a step back from him, self-preservation fully kicking in.

  I did know the answer to his question and no good would come from that honesty. As much as I wanted Hunter, I couldn’t have him.

  “Bullshit,” he said, locking eyes with me. He closed the distance between us again, refusing me the space I needed to think clearly. “Why did you write that letter?”

  “Why did you keep it?” I countered, crossing my arms tight around me again. I felt trapped in a corner, desperate to get out, and it was bringing out my defiant side. I still wasn’t sure why he was here and what the point of all this was, if all he wanted to know was why I’d written the damn thing. Did it really matter?

  “Because it was the most honest thing anyone has ever said me. Simple as that,” he replied. “Your turn.”

  I shrugged. What could I say? I wrote it because I knew my looks alone would never get him to see me above all the gorgeous women vying for his attention. I hoped my words would make me appealing to him.

  I couldn’t voice that humiliation, so I went with the half-truth. “I was drunk. You were going off to boot camp. Spur of the moment decision I wish I could take back.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched as his entire body went rigid. “You regret writing it?”

  His tense reaction to my confession gave me pause. I swore it was almost like I’d hurt him with my answer, which was crazy, but just the idea that I had made me want to fix it and I backpedaled a bit.

  “I was buzzed and my decision-making was compromised. Had I been sober I would never have sent it.”

  That was the dead honest truth. I didn’t have enough confidence in myself sexually to back up the words I’d penned on that paper.

  His body relaxed, but his gaze still held mine intensely, as if he was searching for something. “But you did write it and you did send it. Have you already fulfilled those promises with someone else?”

  Promises.

  Is that what those words had been? I didn’t want to admit it, but in a way, my bold statements in the letter had been promises. In my fantasy world, I thought I could back up those assertions, but in reality I knew I’d never have to.

  My mouth popped open in shock as heat scalded my face. I scrambled for words.

  “It’s not…the letter wasn’t meant for…” I stammered.

  “No, you haven’t,” he answered for me with a sharp, decisive nod of his head. “Good.”

  Good? Why was that good?

  “Are you still a virgin?” he pressed.

  If my face got any hotter, my skin was going to start bubbling. His blunt questions were so far outside my comfort zone, making me feel awkward and inexperienced.

  “Answer me Eliza,” he insisted.

  The command in his voice caused my body to tingle. I liked the authority.

  “Yes,” I whispered finally.

  Satisfaction radiated from him as he grabbed my hips in his large hands then tugged me to his chest. The feel of his fingers burned through the cotton of my bottoms. My he
art raced, my breathing quickened. I didn’t know what to do with my arms. Wrap them around his neck? Place my hands on his chest?

  I’d never felt so inadequate in my life. I settled for laying my palms on his biceps. His strong muscles jumped under my hands.

  “I’m going to teach you, Eliza,” he said as if he’d read my mind. “What you like, what I like, all of it.”

  A sense of relief washed over me. He was taking control and I was more than willing to let him. As crazy as it was, my stupid irresponsible act three years ago had actually worked.

  My words, written from passion and desperation, had somehow reached Hunter Rhodes and made him want me.

  “I don’t want to scare you, I need to know how far you’re willing to go with me,” he continued.

  His eyes drilled into mine, his body tense as he waited for my answer. It took me a moment to realize he meant more than just sex. My letter hadn’t been tame by any means. It’d been full of bondage, spanking and more. I had never done any of it. I wanted to experience everything with Hunter, but I worried that the reality wouldn’t be as exciting as the fantasy. I worried I would disappoint him.

  Still, I couldn’t let my hesitation rule me. This was my chance to have my fantasies realized.

  “As deep as you want me to go,” I whispered.

  A wolfish grin spread across his lips as he lowered his head. Soft lips brushed the curvature of my ear. I instantly shivered as desire flooded my body.

  “The safe word is letter.” His tongue snagged my earlobe, drew it between his teeth then he lightly nipped. I gasped sharply, awed by the feelings rushing through my body. Nothing I had ever read or even imagined had caused this much tingling, tension or excitement within me.

  For a moment, my thoughts wandered to Sophie. What would she think if she knew that the man she’d been obsessing about was here with me? Saying these things?

  Doing these things?

  My stomach clenched and I felt unease rippled through me. But Hunter and Sophie hadn’t been together in years, I reasoned.

  She had no claim on him.

  And besides, I was powerless to resist Hunter Rhodes. He was all I had fantasized about, dreamed about, for years and years.

  “Do you like to touch yourself, Eliza?” His hot breath warmed my cheek, snapping me back to the present.

  Swallowing, I gave a jerky nod. “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Show me.”

  I blinked up at him. I didn’t understand what he wanted, so I went with my gut. I ran my palms over my breasts, cupping them, massaging them. An approving growl vibrated from his throat.

  “Pinch your nipples.”

  Feeling sexy for the first time in my life, I did as he demanded, and pleasure shot all the way down to my throbbing clit. Closing my eyes, I gasped.

  “Now lower, Eliza.”

  I didn’t think. I just did as commanded, sliding one palm over my ribcage, over my stomach then underneath the waistband of my bottoms. Sliding my fingers into the sleek wetness and over my aching nub, I groaned.

  “How wet are you?”

  “So wet,” I whispered.

  I kept rubbing my clit, my breathing choppy as everything tightened, building tension for an explosive release. Any second now, I was going to come.

  His hand locked over my wrist then tugged up, taking my fingers away from my clit seconds before the orgasm was going to take me. Eyes popping open, I whimpered my frustration.

  “You’ll come when I decide it’s time.”

  I throbbed with need, every cell alive and vibrating. He took my hand then led me down the short hall to my bedroom not stopping until we reached the king-sized sleigh bed. He moved me in front of the mattress, then laid his palms on my hips. Slowly he ran one hand up my waist, over the side of my breast then he cupped my chin, tilting my head back.

  Lowering his head, he hovered his lips over mine. I’d just touched myself for this man, and it’d been the most erotic thing I had ever done, but nothing beat the anticipation of having Hunter Rhodes kiss me for the first time.

  “I’ve dreamed of these lips,” he said huskily.

  That was supposed to be my line, but having him admit he’d thought of my lips sent excited chills over me.

  He brushed his mouth across mine. Just the barest of touches, but I felt it all the way to my toes. His tongue flicked over my bottom lip. Moaning, I lifted up on my tiptoes. I needed to close the distance, to finally have his lips devouring mine.

  A throaty, sexy chuckle came from him. “So impatient.”

  Impatient? I’d been waiting for this moment since high school. “Kiss me, Hunter.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Then his lips were on mine, hard, possessive. He pushed his tongue past my lips. The taste of mint filled my mouth. Lust exploded inside me and I couldn’t contain myself. I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped up. Without breaking the kiss, Hunter grabbed the back of my knees and hoisted me up so I wrapped my legs around his waist. His rigid erection pushed against my throbbing clit.

  I moved my hips, grinding against him, needing something more. I needed him inside me, even if I’d never experienced such a thing before.

  The need for Hunter was instinctual and primal.

  A guttural groan emitted from my lips as my fantasy sprang to life, as the man I thought knew and cared nothing about my very existence—kissed me with a passion I’d only dreamed of.

  Suddenly, he tossed me onto the mattress, then snatched my knees again, yanking me to the edge. In one swift motion he had both my pajama bottoms and silk panties off and on the floor. I clamped my knees together in embarrassment.

  Hunter shook his head sharply, then pushed my legs wide open.

  Cool air swept across my exposed skin. I had never been like this with a man. Never allowed someone to look at me like this, and Hunter was looking, his eyes hungrily latched onto my body.

  I felt so inadequate, knowing he’d been with the most beautiful girls all through high school and college. What must I look like compared to them?

  But the hungry gaze in his eyes somewhat mollified my fears.

  As he lowered his head, my breathing rasped out of my lungs. My clit was pulsating with desire, anticipation. His hot breath warmed my skin seconds before he cruelly teased me with his tongue. The softest of flicks. Over and over again. It felt so good, but at the same time, my body screamed for more friction.

  Frustrated, I whimpered and writhed on the bed, lifting my hips toward his mouth. He finally answered my unspoken plea and sucked my clit deep into his mouth.

  Splendid sensations exploded through my body. Gasping, I closed my eyes, balling my fist in the patchwork quilt. He dominated my clit, bringing me close to orgasm, only to pull back just before he pushed me over the edge. Groaning, I grabbed the back of his head, knotted my fingers in his hair and shoved him closer as I ground against his mouth.

  I needed to come. Now.

  This time, he didn’t pull back, he sent me into a powerful orgasm that ripped a long, loud moan from me as my body quivered and jerked. No orgasm I had ever given myself had felt this good. Masturbation got the job done. Hunter Rhodes’ mouth sent me to ecstasy and I wanted him to send me there over and over again.

  As I lay there trying to gather the energy to move, he climbed over me, kissing the side of my neck and jaw. “You were fucking delicious, like sweet honey.”

  And just like that, I was turned on again. I wanted so badly to return the favor and give him as intense of a release as he’d given me.

  “What do you like,” I whispered.

  His green gaze met mine, a wicked gleam shined from them. “Your hand around my cock. My come on your tits.”

  I swallowed against the nerves that suddenly attacked my throat. I had never given a hand job before. What if I did it wrong? Pumped too slow or hurt him by doing it too fast?

  As if he sensed my hesitation, he lay back against the mattress, took my hand
and pressed it against the large bulge in his jeans. “Don’t think, Eliza. Just do what feels right.”

  I shifted onto my knees beside his body. I was naked from the waist down while he was still fully clothed. That seemed unfair. That needed fixing ASAP. I straddled him, softly gasping as my still sensitive clit met his erection. I was rewarded with a growl of approval from Hunter.

  I tugged the shirt up over his belly button then ran my finger down the thin line of dark hair that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. Defined muscles twitched beneath my touch.

  “Take it off,” I instructed. A lopsided grin crossed Hunter’s lips, almost as if he saying I was cute for trying to boss him around.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he yanked the shirt over his head.

  All thoughts of sexiness fled as my eyes roamed over the multiple ragged scars marring his chest. Tears blurred my vision as I pressed a hand to my mouth. “Oh, Hunter.”

  A large area over his left peck and onto the top of his shoulder looked as if someone had held a blowtorch to it. The puckered, rippling pink skin had long since healed. I reached out to touch it, but Hunter snatched my hand in mid-air.

  My gaze jumped to his. A scowl was etched deep into his face. “Don’t.”

  There was no arguing with the seriousness in his tone and I nodded, tugging my hand free of his. I still had the urge to touch the skin, but I restrained myself from doing so. He had been through so much, much more than I or anyone in this town realized.

  I wanted to bring him as much pleasure as I could right now. Bending over, I kissed the side of his neck. He jerked away from my lips and I froze, hurt and confused by his denial.

  Everything had been going fine until his scars had been revealed. I worried that my reaction to them may have pushed him back into a dark place. I didn’t want that.

  I moved off his lap then made fast work with his button and zipper. After I pushed his jeans and boxers down to his knees, I took his fading erection in to my palm. What if I couldn’t get him turned on again? What if I had completely killed the moment and there was no getting it back?

  Panic squeezed my throat, and I had to push all the negative thoughts away, because I would surely fail if I allowed those to lead my actions. First I needed to tease him, like he had teased me. I traced the head of his cock with my finger, amazed at how velvety soft the skin was. Gently, I explored down, gliding my open palm down the side of his impressive hardening length. I smiled at my ability to get him hard again.