Blow Page 8

“Hunter,” I whispered, hoping calling his name would jar him out of the nightmare.

  His curled body suddenly straightened, tense, rigid. Pain etched his face as he rolled onto his back. “No. No. No.”

  His anguish caused tears to burn the back of my eyes. I was desperate to save him from the horror in his mind.

  “Hunter,” I repeated, a little louder and forceful.

  Eyes popping open wide, he jackknifed up, punching and swinging erratically. Then he froze, chest heaving as he sucked in deep breaths. His gaze jerked around the room, as if he couldn’t figure out where he was, couldn’t quite comprehend that he was safe.

  I remained silent, giving him time to adjust to the calm surroundings. Let him realize that he was no longer in the danger zone his mind had placed him. Slowly, his tense body relaxed and he blinked, shaking his head. He flopped back on mattress, rubbing his forehead. “Shit,” he muttered.

  “You’re safe,” I whispered.

  His head jerked in my direction and his eyes locked with mine. His brow furrowed in confusion, as if he had no clue how I’d gotten there. Then he bolted back to a sitting position, panic on his face.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His gaze frantically searched my body.

  Feeling it was finally safe to touch, I caressed his forearm. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Thank God.” He swept his hands through his hair. “When my mom tried to wake me from a nightmare my first night back in town, I knocked her to the floor. Thankfully I didn’t hurt her, just scared the shit out of her.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  If he didn’t, I wouldn’t take offense. I wasn’t sure if Hunter was talking to anyone about his time in captivity. I wasn’t even sure how someone talked about something of that magnitude.

  He adjusted the pillows and leaned back against the headboard.

  “Come here,” he said his voice hoarse as he lifted his arm in offering.

  I didn’t hesitate. I scooted over until I was curled against his side. Pressing my cheek against his chest, I listened to the fast pounding of his heart. His muscular arm settled around me and his fingers caressed my side.

  We laid like that for what seemed like hours. His heartbeat gradually returned to a more normal speed, his breathing evened. I didn’t say anything, feeling as if Hunter needed this time to sort through his emotions. When or if he was ready to talk, I would be ready to listen. Until then, the ball was in his court.

  “Did I mention Darren?” he asked almost hesitantly.

  “Yes.”

  His chest inflated on a deep inhale, then he released it in a rushed gust. “I’m not surprised. I was dreaming about him…about what happened to him.”

  I instantly wanted to ask what had happened, but I kept the question to myself, afraid if I moved or talked I’d spook him back into his dark, lonely silence. He didn’t need probing from me, pressure from too many questions. He’d share what he wanted and keep the rest to himself. And I was okay with that.

  Even more time passed. Neither of us spoke. Maybe that was all he was going to say.

  “We were ambushed.” he finally said, his voice, rough with suppressed emotion, shattered the heavy silence. “An IED wiped out most of my team before we even knew what was happening. We exchanged gunfire for hours. Ammunition ran out. And Darren and I were all that was left. I don’t know why they didn’t kill us right there, but they didn’t. We were blindfolded, cuffed and thrown in the back of a truck until we ended up in the hellhole that would become my home for the next year.”

  I heard him swallow as his fingers tightened on my waist. Wanting to comfort him in some way, I lightly rubbed the tense muscles of his chest, hoping it let him know he wasn’t alone. That he was no longer in that hellhole. He was there with me. Safe.

  “For days, we were left like that,” he continued, a darker, angrier edge to his tone. “No food. Water. Just fucking left, sitting on a dirt floor, hands tied behind us, black bags over our heads.” He paused as he inhaled deep again.

  My heart hurt for him. I couldn’t imagine the awful thoughts he’d had during that time, much less the emotions. Terror. Fury. Grieving.

  “Then they came for us. They beat Darren, over and over, demanding information that neither one of us had. The beat him motionless—until he stopped breathing. They killed him for not knowing. In front of me.”

  His body shuddered beneath my cheek, and I knew he was reliving the moment. I hated that he was. I wanted to tell him to stop, not to tell me anymore, but I also didn’t want to make him believe he had to keep it to himself. That I didn’t want to hear it. No one should carry something so horrific alone.

  “I believed I was next,” his voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat to cover it. “They weren’t after leverage. They were angry. They wanted to hurt. I don’t think they meant to kill Darren that day. I think they knew we didn’t have the information they sought. They just wanted us to believe there was a reason. They were more careful with me. Taking it just to the brink of death to stop suddenly, leave me lying alone in my own goddamn blood. Weeks would pass while I healed, and other than the food they passed to me through a slit in my door, I had no contact with anyone, until they came for me again.”

  Jesus. I worked hard to blink back the tears burning my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. Didn’t want him see me cry for him. From the way he’d reacted to my reaction to his scars, I wasn’t sure tears would be appreciated. He felt like he was being pitied, when nothing was further from the truth.

  “I thought I would die in that fucking hellhole. If not from my injuries or the torture, a fucking infection would take me out. I thought I’d never see my family again.” His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer to him. “Never be with you the way I spent months dreaming about. The only bright spot of my day was lying on that dirt floor and thinking about you, about that incredible letter you wrote me. Nobody had ever said those things to me before.”

  Now I had to say something, just when I was so close to bursting into tears from what he’d been through. My throat was thick with emotions wanting to spill out. I couldn’t let them. For him I had to be strong. He was sharing something so intensely private, I wouldn’t ruin it by becoming emotional. Swallowing, I took a moment to control myself, my voice, before saying, “I wasn’t sure you even knew who I was.”

  “I didn’t in high school,” he admitted, his tone lighter than it was just moments before. I instantly knew he was ready to drop the depressing topic of his captivity. “You were three grades behind me, but I noticed you in college. I saw you at a few parties, hanging out but always keeping to yourself. We were even introduced once.”

  I remembered that. I had been so flustered at finally being face-to-face with my longtime crush.

  I laughed softly. “I stuttered horribly, my face was on fire and I had the hardest time looking you in the eyes. I left a great impression.”

  “I thought you were cute.”

  He was so lying through his teeth. I called him on it. “You never talked to me after that.”

  “Which was my loss.” He squeezed me close again. “I was a different person back then, Eliza. All I cared about was playing football, partying and getting laid. I was a naïve spoiled boy who had it all. I came from a wealthy family, was always the most popular guy in school. I didn’t just have friends, I had fans. I never knew a day of hardship in my privileged life. I look back at the person and don’t know how that was ever me. I have so much anger now.”

  “Then why do you still try to be that person?” I asked lightly.

  “I’m trying to figure out who I am now. I have no fucking clue. Nothing I used to enjoy appeals to me any longer. Conversations about last night’s football game seem trivial when I’ve watched…” he trailed off.

  “A friend die.”

  “Yeah, but it’s easy to hide behind the old me with everyone. I don’t have to with you. I can just be with you. I need that, Eliza. I need one place where I�
�m not forcing a smile, trying to make people believe I’ve not changed. I don’t want to be questioned. Pitied. I just want to be left alone. The moment anyone in this fucking town gets one clue that I’m not okay, that I’m not the same guy who left, they will hover over me, suffocate me. I refuse to go through that shit.”

  I tilted my head back to look up in his face. The sincerity I saw there made my stomach clench. All he was asking for was somewhere, someone, to go to where he could let all the walls down he’d built around himself without worry of being picked apart.

  He was asking for a safe place, and he wanted that with me.

  “I will be the place you can just be, Hunter,” I whispered.

  A long silence followed before he said, “Do you really understand what you’re agreeing to?”

  “I do. No outside interference. No going public. You need somewhere to go that is just yours.”

  I truly understood what he’d been trying to tell me days before. I got it now. I didn’t necessarily like keeping our relationship a secret, but I also had to respect the fact that Hunter needed time to come to terms with what happened to him. I needed to be happy that it was me he wanted to do it with.

  * * *

  My stomach rumbled. Hunter couldn’t get back fast enough with our Chinese. So far today, we’d slept in late, played Xbox and I’d introduced him to Breaking Bad. Three episodes in and I had a Walter White junkie on my hands.

  Smiling, I grabbed two plates, forks and napkins from the kitchen then poured us each a soda. After I carried them into the living room, I set them down on the glass table then curled up in the corner of the couch.

  I hadn’t been sure when I woke up next to Hunter what kind of day I was in for. It was going to go one of two ways. He’d either bolt out the door with some reason he had to leave like he had the other morning, or he’d stay. No in between. Leave or stay.

  I’d lain in bed for what seemed like hours, unmoving, scared to wake him up, because I didn’t want to know what was going to happen.

  In the end, I had nothing to worry about. Hunter didn’t seem like he had any intention of leaving anytime soon and I was more than fine with that. I was elated.

  The door opened and Hunter walked in with a brown paper bag.

  “Thank God,” I said, jumping off the couch and rushing to help him. “I’m starving.”

  His deep chuckle made me smile. So far today, he’d seemed a little more relaxed and I was happy the tension was gone—at least for now. There was no telling what would snap it right back into place.

  I pulled containers from the bag and set them on the coffee table. “Jesus, Hunter, what all did you get?”

  He shrugged. “Couldn’t figure out what I wanted, so I got a little of anything that sounded good. What we don’t eat now, we can eat later.”

  Later. I had to stop myself from doing a happy dance. Nope, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon and I had the man all to myself. Maybe keeping our relationship private wasn’t such a bad thing.

  Hunter grabbed a container of Lo Mein and a pair of chopsticks then plopped back on the couch, bracing one foot on the table. After I served myself a helping of sesame chicken and fried rice and sat down beside him, I clicked play on the episode of Breaking Bad we’d paused to get food.

  Quietly we ate and watched the show. I liked this. It was comfortable. As if we’d been curling up on the couch together for years. Hunter leaned over and stole a nugget of chicken from my plate with his chopsticks.

  “Hey!” I playfully pulled my plate out of his reach. “There’s an entire container over there. Get your own.”

  “But yours tastes so much better.” He popped the chicken in his mouth and winked. His face was so relaxed, almost happy. Knowing he achieved that with me made my chest expand with pleasure.

  After we finished eating and placed the leftovers in the refrigerator, we reconvened on the couch and got sucked back into the show. It was when we were at a particular hilarious part that I noticed I hadn’t heard a peep from Hunter or noticed any movement from him in my peripheral in a while. I glanced over at him and everything in me stilled.

  Hunter wasn’t even looking at the television. His head was slightly turned and his attention seemed fixated out the window, but he wasn’t looking outside. He wasn’t looking at anything. At least not in the here and now. A faraway, haunted glaze dulled his green eyes. His lips were pressed tight, his cheek twitched.

  I slid my hand over his. “Hunter.”

  He jumped and shook his head. Blinking, he turned his head toward and met my gaze with a strained smile that made me sad. “What an episode, huh?”

  Swallowing, I forced a smile of my own. “Yeah. One of my favorites.”

  He looked away. Whatever was going on in his head had caused his mood to take a nosedive. The edginess was back, the sense of danger. I wasn’t sure what to do, except sit beside him.

  Suddenly, he turned toward me. He grabbed the sides of my face between his hands, startling me for a second, before his mouth claimed mine in a hard, demanding kiss. My clit instantly responded, pulsing to life as that amazing ache spread across my pussy. There was nothing soft about the kiss, he was taking and I would give.

  Breathing hard, he ripped his mouth from mine then yanked my shirt off over my head. Lust and life brightened his eyes again as he stared down at my breasts. I pushed them out toward him, his unwavering attention caused them to pebble, and he growled in response.

  Moving onto one knee, he shifted so he was hovering over me. A surprised gasp shot out of me when grabbed me behind both knees and yanked me so my ass was on the edge of the seat.

  His movements were fast, almost manic, as if he couldn’t get to my pussy fast enough. That he was crazed with need to have me. It was so fucking hot.

  Seconds later, he had my pajamas pants and panties off and on the floor. When he slipped his hand between my legs, he closed eyes and gave a bliss filled sigh. He opened his eyes, looked down at his hand, and started pumping his fingers deep inside me. I gasped, arching. Watching him watch his hand fuck me was unbelievable sexy. I propped me feet on the table, spreading my legs wider.

  “That’s it, show me how much you need me.”

  His palm slapped against my pussy.

  “God, Hunter.”

  “I want to taste you, but I want to watch you come too.” There was a clear struggle as to what he wanted more. “Fuck it. I’ll take both.”

  He went to both knees on the floor, placing one of my legs over each of his shoulders. He grabbed my hips in his hands, lifted them up then devoured my pussy with his mouth. He didn’t relent, he didn’t tease, he ate like a man who had not had food in weeks.

  All I could do was reach behind me, hold on to the couch cushion and give myself completely over to him. The speed of his movements spiked my arousal, my clit pulsed hard, and each swipe of his tongue sent shards of pleasure through me.

  “Fucking tastes so good,” he murmured against me. The vibration of his words caused me to gasp with pleasure. He continued licking and sucking, and just as I was about to go right over the edge, he stopped. Within seconds, he’d moved from between my legs to beside me, half standing, half kneeling on the couch.

  He thrust two fingers deep inside and pumped, hard, fast. His palm ground on my clit with each thrust. Closing my eyes, my body got tighter and tighter. Whimpers poured from my mouth. It felt so good. Everything he did to me felt so good.

  “That’s it, baby.” The hoarse words only heightened my arousal. “Come for me. Let me watch you come.”

  Then I did, arching off the couch, I yelled out not caring if anyone heard me. There was no way to hold it in. The force of my orgasm was too great. Then I collapsed back against the cushions, chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

  Opening my eyes, I looked up at Hunter. He had his head bent down, his breath coming as hard as mine was. I reached up and caressed his cheek. His head snapped up. There was something in eyes I hadn’t seen before, a franti
c, wild, caged look. Almost like something had spooked him.

  I sat up, ready to take care of him, anything to wipe that look off his face. But then it was gone, the tension left his body, and he collapsed back onto the couch, throwing his arm over his eyes.

  “That was just what I needed.”

  I scooted over to him then leaned into his side. I slid my hand to the bulge straining against his jeans. “Now it’s your turn.”

  The stiffness returned to his body as he shook his head. He reached down and curled his fingers around my wrist then brought it up to lie on his chest. “I’m good. I just needed to see you come.”

  I tried not to take offense to him rejecting a blowjob, but it was hard not to.

  “You sure?” I whispered.

  He looked over at me and there was such peace on his face my mouth went dry.

  “I’m positive. Making you come makes me feel alive.”

  And I had nothing else to say to that.

  Chapter 5

  As I cleaned the round table with a white rag, I had the hardest time keeping a smile off my face. It’d been like that all morning, ever since Hunter had walked out of my apartment to get ready for work.

  What I thought would be another miserable weekend alone had turned out to be the best time I’d had in a long time.

  Hunter was the reason.

  I believed he’d enjoyed his weekend as well—because of me.

  Or at least coped better because I was there. Hunter had gone back into that dark, silent place a few more times over the course of the afternoon. It was almost like he just “checked out” sometimes. He’d be completely in the moment with me, and then I’d notice a stillness from him. Every time I’d touch him to bring him out of it.

  When he did come back, he always seemed to want to get sexual, rough and hard, right afterwards. He’d given me so many orgasms last night, by the time we went to bed, I felt like I didn’t have a bone left in my body and had slept like the dead. He hadn’t let me touch him though, wouldn’t let me ease any of the raging erections he’d sported all day. When I’d try, he’d simply say this was how he wanted it right now.