Page 69 of Hunter

Two hands came around my wrists and stopped them.

“No,” Hunter said.

“Oh, gosh …” I took a step back, ready to pull my hands out. The rejection was like a slap to the face. I felt like such an idio—

“Wait, stop! Stop thinking.” Hunter quickly stepped forward, tightening his hold on my hands and pulling me toward him, despite how much I struggled. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Hunter? Because I would sure as shit like to know why you haven’t let me touch you, despite the fact you’re supposed to be my man.”

“Shit,” Hunter groaned. He looked up and down the hallway before he pulled me into his room, where Adair slept peacefully in his bed. He then locked the door behind us before pulling me into the bathroom where he let me go and shut the door behind him.

I sat down on the edge of the bathtub. The bathroom was big enough to dwarf me when I was alone in it, but with Hunter in it, too, it seemed small.

He began to pace as I silently bubbled, waiting for the grand explanation to why my touch was so sacrilegious to him.

Finally, he stopped, took a deep breath, and then kneeled in front of me. He brought his hands to my knees, squeezing them softly as he looked me in the eyes.

“You still have those plane tickets, right?”

My mind leaped to my purse in the bedroom, the little envelope hidden within the zipped compartment. When I had been told to get my things, I had picked it up and put it in my bag without thought, the subconscious part of me still aware of my doubts.

“I—”

“I’m not asking you for a decision,” Hunter cut me off. “I want you to get to truly know the club and me before you throw them away.”

I nodded, fully understanding how rare a man like Hunter was. Of course, I had to thank Kay and Anna to some extent, but there weren’t a lot of men in the world who would give a girl such a choice and not pressure her.

“Then why can’t I touch you?” My voice sounded a lot more vulnerable than it had in my head. I hadn’t realized how important it was to me to have equal trust with Hunter. Not emotionally, but sexually as well.

Hunter frowned, reaching up to cup my face. He brushed his thumb over my cheek as if he could smooth out the frown lines. His brown eyes looked into mine when he said, “You’ll ruin me.”

“What?”

A small smile curved Hunter’s lips. “The second you touch me, I know you’re going to ruin me for other women. I mean, hell, I already can’t get hard unless I’m thinking about you. I don’t do relationships, either, but you got me bent over backward trying to convince you to stay with me. And like you have your doubts, I have mine. You still got those plane tickets, and I near regret giving them to you, because I’m scared as shit that I’ll find you gone one day and I won’t be able to find you. And, if I let you touch me, then that will be it for me. No going back from you. So, if you were ever to leave me …” Hunter shook his head, a ragged breath coming from his chest.

My heart soared in a lightning storm. I was overwhelmed with both joy and pain at the man pouring his soul to me. He had practically offered me his heart in the hope I wouldn’t break it. It all felt too much—a man like this storming into my life from the darkness of all my mistakes, wedging himself in my heart so deeply that I knew there would be no removing him.

My gaze traveled to the door again, my mind looking through the wall to my bag and to those tickets.

“No!” Hunter snapped, surprising me. His eyes locked on to mine, blazing into them with all his willpower. “Don’t you dare throw out those tickets because of what I told you. I wasn’t going to say anything because I knew you’d be like this. You have to make the decision on your own, not because of me, or those tickets would have been for nothing.”

He was right. I wasn’t stupid enough to think my newfound revelations had anything to do with what he had told me. I was riding on so much emotion that the decision would be rash, and Hunter wouldn’t trust it. I had to decide this on my own.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m pretty sure I already told you that you’re not allowed to read my mind.”

Hunter smiled, shaking his head. I was sure I heard him mumble something, but I wasn’t sure what it was until I added, “And don’t think you can keep getting away with telling me what to do.”

That time, I clearly heard the “So ruined” under his breath.

I smiled.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hunter

Isaton one of the couches with Adair, who was holding a toy truck while watching TV on my lap with wide eyes. It was the Black Cat race, an unofficial race held every year, where a rider called Black Cat was pitted against racers and was as much a legend as the Stig and undefeated. It had recently been revived from the 80s with the emergence of the new Black Cat becoming increasingly popular, and hell, even I sat on the edge of my seat.

No one could bet on the Black Cat, so everyone had to bet on which rider was most likely to win. Even so, I thought everyone secretly rooted for the Black Cat, hating the idea of the undefeated failing.

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