Taking Him (Lies We Tell) (14 page)

Neither of them said anything, the silence a still, waiting presence between them.

Eventually, because it wasn’t enough to sit against him, she put a hand on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the cotton of his T-shirt. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word as she let her hand slide down again, all the way down to where his jeans were still undone. Ellie opened her eyes, circling him with her fingers. God, he was still semi-hard. She idly ran her thumb along the smooth, heated skin of his cock, stroking, watching as he got even harder.

A shudder ran through him, a harsh intake of breath in her ear.

She moved, sliding off his lap to kneel down between his thighs. She wanted to taste him. Take him in her mouth. Give him the same pleasure as he’d given her.

“Ellie,” he murmured hoarsely. “Stop.”

But she barely heard him. This had been one of her darkest, most secret fantasies and the thought of finally being able to indulge it was intoxicating. She bent her head, holding him in one fist. Then suddenly strong fingers were in her hair, jerking her back so sharply tears started in her eyes.

“I said fucking stop!”

Dazed, she looked up at him. Darkness burned in his eyes, the skin drawn tight over his cheekbones, his lips drawn back in what was almost a snarl. He looked wild, dangerous, anger blazing so brightly she couldn’t look away. She’d never seen him display it so openly before. Never seen him less than silent and still and contained. But his expression seemed almost glazed, as if he wasn’t really seeing her but someone or something else.

His hand twisted brutally in her hair and a little whimper of pain escaped her. “Let me go,” she managed to gasp out. “You’re hurting me.”

Hunter blinked, his gaze abruptly focusing on her. “Shit,” he whispered and released her, thick, black lashes veiling the black glitter of his eyes.

An icy feeling began to unravel inside her. Whatever was going on in that head of his, whatever he’d been looking at just then, it wasn’t anything good. “I think you’d better tell me what the hell is going on, Hunter,” she quietly.

He ran a hand over his head, spiking up his short black hair. “Give me some space a second.”

“But—”

“Please, Ellie.”

Reluctantly, she rose to her feet and took a step back from him. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, tension in every line of his body.

The chill inside her intensified a little more. She’d wanted to know more about him, know the man behind those opaque black eyes. But now she wasn’t so sure. Somewhere inside the man she thought she knew burned a rage she wasn’t sure she was equipped to deal with. A terrible, hungry rage. It frightened her and yet…

It fascinates you too.

She took a small, silent breath. Yeah, it did. It really did. Rage, passion and a whole raft of other emotions lurked beneath the surface of the man who sat in front of her now and yeah, she was fascinated. Drawn to him. He was more dangerous, more complicated and far more intense than she’d ever imagined.

“So,” she said in a voice that was more breathless than she wanted it to be. “Are you going to tell me why you nearly scalped me?”

He didn’t move or speak for a long time. Then, when she thought he wouldn’t say a word, he lifted his head, the look on his face set and hard. “You need to listen when I tell you to stop. I don’t say it for the fun of it.”

Guilt sat like lead in her stomach. “I’m sorry. But how was I to know you didn’t like me going down on you? I don’t normally get guys trying to pull my hair off.”

He was silent a minute. “I’m fucked up, Ellie,” he said eventually. “Seriously fucked up. And I’m not going to make any apology for it.”

“Fine. I get it.” She put her hands in her pockets, bit her lip. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“No.” The word was so final, so certain, there wasn’t any arguing with it. “And I never will. You need to understand that right now.”

So he didn’t even trust her enough for that. Her jaw ached, she was holding it so tight. “I said I wouldn’t ask questions or demand answers. And I won’t. You don’t need to be so bloody aggressive about it.”

“So stop when I fucking say stop. Or does that kind of respect only apply to women?”

Shame spread through her. She wanted to look away from him but didn’t, making herself bear the pitiless look in his dark eyes. “No, of course not,” she said hoarsely. “I’m sorry. I should have. But you told me not to touch you before and then you liked it. So I thought…” She stopped, bit her lip. “I’m confused, okay? One minute you’re telling me to touch you, the next you’re jerking my head away. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how you want me to act.”

Hunter’s mouth tightened. He leaned back in the chair, did up his jeans then glanced away, running a hand over his short black hair. For a second he did his usual silent thing, a muscle flicking in the side of his jaw. Then he let out an audible breath and looked back at her.

“I didn’t expect this thing with you, Ellie. It’s new. And it’s taking me some time to get my head around it. Christ, you’ve been Vin’s little sister for over sixteen years and in the space of one week, you’ve got me thinking about you in a way I never thought I would.”

The raw honesty in his voice hurt. “Oh.” She swallowed. “Is that…is that really so very bad?”

“Yeah, sweetness. It’s bad. It’s fucking terrible.”

Great. Wonderful. Ellie blinked fiercely against the prickle of yet more tears. “Then why don’t you—”

“But I can’t stop thinking about it,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About touching you. Tasting you. Screwing you senseless.”

Her stomach dropped away in a dizzying fall. He wanted her. Couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Screwing you senseless…

A low pulse of desire gripped her, heat between her thighs. “You can. I want you to. I want you to screw me senseless. I’ve wanted you for years and years, Hunter. You know that already.”

His gaze remained opaque as black water. “But I hurt you. And that’s something I never, ever want to do.”

“You won’t, not again. I promise I’ll listen to you next time, okay? I’ll do whatever you say.” Yeah, it was pathetic, but she’d spent too many years with only empty, aching fantasies for company. She’d had a taste of reality and, God help her, she wanted more. Whatever he’d give her before she had to leave for Tokyo.

Hunter ran another hand over his head. “Ah Christ, sweetness,” he said quietly. “You deserve a shitload more than I can give you.”

“Probably. But I don’t care. I’ve waited too long for you.”

He looked away, saying nothing. Then, abruptly he pushed himself out of the chair. “You need to give me some space before we do anything else,” he said after a moment. “Until I’ve got this situation straight in my head.” Another pause. “What are you doing on Saturday?”

The question wasn’t one she’d been expecting, and it took her a moment to process it. “This Saturday? Uh…nothing, I don’t think.”

“I need a date for my brother’s wedding. Do you want to come with me?”

She blinked. She’d never met his family, never even heard about them because he didn’t talk about them. Not even once. And yet now he was asking her to go with him. She didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Yes, sure. I’d love to come.”

“Good.” His gaze flicked over her shoulder. “Better check that sauce. I think it’s burning.”

“I have a question.”

Hunter handed Ellie a helmet. “What?”

“Actually I have two. Question number one. Why are we going to the wedding on a bike?”

“Because my Dad hates bikes.”

“Uh huh. Fair enough. Question number two. Why did you ask me?”

“Isn’t it a little late to be asking that one?”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to change your mind if I asked. So I’m leaving it till the last minute.” Her gaze was steady but her hands were fiddling with the black helmet. Nervous.

She probably wanted him to tell her it was because he wanted her there.

But the truth was he quite honestly didn’t. He’d been straight with Vin when he’d told his friend he didn’t want Ellie anywhere near his toxic family. And if he was fair, he would never have asked her. Yet he owed Vin. And, a deeper need he didn’t want to acknowledge, the thought of having her by his side was comforting somehow. Reassuring.

He remembered coming to watch her the night after he’d left home. Feeling broken inside, the shards of himself only partially put back together by Vin’s trust in him. Ellie had only turned ten, and her face when she’d opened the front door to see him on the threshold—her smile had shone a light into the dark places of his soul. She’d been the only one who’d ever wanted him for himself. The only one who’d never taken anything from him. And a deep part of him couldn’t quite let go of that.

“I asked you because I could use the company, sweetness. Why else?”

The look on her face relaxed suddenly and she smiled. The smile he remembered.

God, she was beautiful. It was still a constant surprise that he’d never realised exactly how beautiful. Today she’d gone lighter on her usual black mascara and eyeliner, shading her eyes with glittering metallic silver. It matched her dress, some kind of tight silver mini dress worn beneath another dress made entirely out of black lace. Ripped black fishnets and platform boots.

“You look beautiful.”

Ellie blinked at him. Then that delicate flush, the one he was starting to recognise so well, crept up her neck, over her cheeks, staining her pale skin. Her smile turned shy and not a little bit pleased, an even more rare and precious thing. “Oh thank you.” She put the helmet down on the bike and turned to him, coming closer. “You’re not half bad yourself.” Her hand lifted to the neck of his plain white shirt, touching the top button he’d left undone. “No tie?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

The corner of her mouth, lushly painted in lipstick so dark it may as well have been black, quirked. “Of course. Good thing no tie suits you.” Her fingers brushed lightly over the bare skin of his throat.

A week or so ago he would have hated a touch like that. Now he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her wrist and holding her hand there, letting the feeling of her fingers on his skin settle down through him.

For the past four days now they’d fallen back into their old relationship, partly because he’d wanted to get his bearings a bit and partly because Ellie had pulled back, giving him the space he’d requested. Just as well. The last thing that needed to happen was another fucking flashback where he’d hurt her. Like he had when she’d tried to go down on him.

Jesus, he’d tried not to feel guilty about pulling her hair. Tried to do his normal thing of pretending nothing had happened. That he didn’t like women giving him blowjobs. But of course he couldn’t. Because when Ellie had nearly put her mouth on him all he’d been able to see was Liz’s face, her eyes glazed with lust. Her voice, thick with desire, telling him this would feel good. That he’d like it. And all the shame and guilt had come rushing back. Shame and guilt inextricably entwined with lust. And anger, always anger. All the emotions a seventeen-year-old boy wasn’t supposed to feel because a seventeen-year-old boy should love an older woman sucking him off.

So he’d jerked Ellie away because he didn’t want her associated with those emotions. Didn’t want to have her mouth on him while all he saw was Liz. He needed space. Time to think things through and make sure the past was firmly where it belonged. In the past.

Ellie glanced up at him, a bright flash of silver. He heard her breath catch then watched as her lashes fell, her gaze on her fingers at his throat.

Shit, he was over having space. He wanted to touch her again. Taste her again.

Be inside her…

Desire kicked hard inside him and he wished, not for the first time, that he didn’t have to go to Justin’s fucking wedding. But of course he did because to do otherwise would be to admit something was wrong. And nothing was wrong. Nothing at all.

“Come on, sweetness,” he said, his voice rough-edged. “We’d better get going, otherwise we’ll be late.

Ellie leaned her elbows on the table and took another look around the brilliantly lit hotel ballroom. Over the years she’d picked up that Hunter’s family was well off, but she hadn’t realised quite how well off until she’d walked into the reception at one of Auckland’s most expensive hotels. French champagne. Crystal glasses. An ocean of white roses and expensive scented candles. Nearly a whole bloody orchestra providing the atmosphere. Designer gowns everywhere she looked and conversation of the mergers and acquisitions kind.

Clearly the Chase family wasn’t only well off, they were freaking loaded, not to mention moving in what were obviously influential social circles. Interesting when Hunter was almost the complete opposite. He’d never cared about money or social status or image. In fact, she could remember arguments he’d had with Vin when he’d been totally scathing about such things. Which made watching him with his family fascinating.

Ellie propped her chin in her hands, staring across the tables scattered throughout the ballroom to the bar set up at one end of it. Hunter had gone off to get a beer and had been waylaid by his father. She couldn’t stop staring at Hunter. Black suit, white shirt, simple and austere as a priest. Yet there was nothing priest-like about the aura of darkness and intensity that surrounded him. An elemental danger that had more than a few women casting glances in his direction. It made her want to touch him as she had before they’d left. Run her hands over his warm, tanned skin…