Page 29 of Regret

Dammit.

She heard the beep of the door unlocking. Another click and Scarlet was sure her heart was about to explode.

And then Hunter walked through the door, and anger just launched its way through her chest.

“Jesus Christ!” She flung the first thing she could find at Hunter’s head—which just happened to be the empty bottle of whiskey.

Hunter ducked and covered his face from the splattering glass. “What the fuck? Are you insane?”

“You scared the bejesus out of me, you fucking asshole. I thought you were one of them!”

He slammed the door shut. “I already told you it’s impossible for him to trace this place back to me.”

Scarlet pulled her free hand through her hair and tried to catch her breath, her heart still pounding heavily inside her chest. “Yeah, well, let’s just say I know him well enough to know that nothing is impossible for that son of a bitch.” Then she looked over at him. “What the hell is wrong with your face?”

He turned away and tossed his keys on the table next to the door. “Nothing.”

“That big shiner around your eye disagrees.”

Hunter looked at what once was a bottle of whiskey that now laid splattered on the floor. “Did you drink the entire fucking bottle?”

“It was half a bottle, smart-ass.” She shrugged. “Besides, I was bored.” She pulled at the cuff. “And restrained.”

There was a sound of cracking glass as Hunter made his way toward her. “It’s seven in the fucking morning and you’re completely shit-faced.”

“I am not shit-faced.” She held up a finger toward him. “But I do have to pee.”

He stared at her in what Scarlet could only assume was his I’m-so-not-amused face.

“I leave you alone for a few hours and this is what I get.” He leaned over her and she breathed in his wild spice scent mixed with sweat and pure raw male. In this position, she was able to take a peek down his shirt, and saw a lot of ink tattooed on almost every part of his skin.

Her skin tingled and her breath hitched when she felt his hand brush against her arm. There was a click, and the cuff loosened around her wrist. Her arm was so stiff from being in that one position for so long, she had to slowly bring it down before rubbing her wrist.

Hunter stood up, his green eyes still glaring down at her. “Go pee.”

His gaze slipped from her face, slowly moving down her neck, pausing for two seconds at her breasts still covered with nothing but her bra. She noticed his chest rise and fall with every deep breath he took. There was no denying that Hunter was one huge, solid man built out of nothing but cold, hard steel, muscle, and attitude. She would have been blind not to notice.

But while he stood there staring at her, taking in every inch of her body, it seemed like there was something different, something darker lurking behind his eyes. Like an animal slowly pacing up and down behind the gates of his cage, wanting, needing, waiting to get out. And just thinking about that animal finally being let out of his cage caused a subtle, slow burn to start up inside her. The way he kept those brilliant, mesmerizing green eyes on her felt like he was caressing her with his gaze, touching her body with his mind.

Yeah, she’d probably had way too much alcohol.

The second his gaze landed on her hip, staring at the button of her pants, he looked up. “And take a shower while you’re in there. You stink.”

And that was the second time Hunter Keaton had managed to completely shatter the atmosphere around them, causing the crackle of electricity to cease instantly.

He turned around and headed to the kitchen.

“Fucking asshole,” she whispered.

“I heard that.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I already did that today.” He turned around and shot her a smug grin. “Twice.”

“What?” She glanced at him, dumbfounded. “It’s not even eight in the morning yet.”

“I’m not easily sated.”

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