Page 100 of Oathbreaker

His movements speed up, and we’re fucking wildly. It’s glorious. I come to the edge quickly, shouting his name when I tip over.

“Goddamn, Winter,” he grinds out, and then with one-two-three more strokes, he pulls me flush to him with a bruising grip, coming deep inside me with one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip.

We’re both breathless, half-dressed, and my arms start to shake from the weight of holding myself up and the hours of shooting practice.

He runs his hand up my back before slowly pulling out. I start to stand up, but he holds me in place. “Don’t move,” he commands, and I look at him over my shoulder. He stares at me. Well, at my pussy.

“Hunter,” I say, heat crawling up my face. I shift, and he presses me down more. Using his other hand, he scoops up his cum, pushing it back in slowly, giving my most sensitive parts a gentle, loving caress along the way.

“Sorry, baby. I just wanted to sear this sight into my memory,” he says with little humor. He pulls me to stand, putting my yoga pants back in place.

The kiss he gives me is so, so tender.

“It’s important to me that you are safe, Sunbeam,” he says quietly.

“I know. I’m learning that.”

He kisses my forehead. “Part of staying safe means knowing where you can turn for help,” he says casually. He moves over to the guns, preparing them to return to storage.

I sit on the bench.

“Yeah,” I say.

“You need to call Veronica.” His back is to me when he says this, and I bite my lip to keep from breaking down. The truth is, I miss my best friend. Like, I really, really miss her. And I’m so sorry and embarrassed and angry at myself for how I treated her.

And based on the fact that she hasn’t reached out to me, I know she’s hurt.

“Wait. Has she spoken to you?”

Hunter reaches a hand out to me, and we leave the shooting range, pausing only to flick off the lights. When we exit the hangar without a response from him, I know the answer is yes.

I say his name, and he exhales. “Yes, she and I have talked.”

I look around the rose garden, trying to figure out my emotions and my thoughts.

“Winter,” he says, “I love you. I’m always here for you.”

“But,” I add.

“And,” he emphasizes, “you need to accept that you have more people in your corner than you allow. You have a support system that’s beyond me. It’s Veronica. It’s Genevieve. It’s Ella. Hell, it’s even Leo and August.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, contemplating his words. I know he’s right. But taking another step to get vulnerable, to make amends, is fucking hard.

What was it I said to Hunter all those months ago in this same garden? Atonement.

“I’ll work on it,” I commit.

He smiles at me.

Reaching over to pluck a rose from the nearby bush, he hands it to me.

I bring it to my nose, inhaling the luscious scent.

“I know you will, baby. I know you will.”

TWENTY-ONE

WINTER

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