Page 27 of Regret

Chapter 10

Blanchette Wolfe.

A name Scarlet wanted to erase from her mind, her memory, her life. Nothing associated with that name was anything she wanted to think about or remember. All that name did was remind her of how her life changed within the blink of an eye, how everything got ripped away from her by one act that left her alone and broken.

The minute she decided to run, Blanchette Wolfe no longer existed. Blanchette died along with a very big part of her soul. She lost more than her identity that day. She lost her spirit and everything good a person was supposed to feel in life. There was nothing left of the girl she once was, now she was stuck with an empty shell and a heart that no longer had the capacity to love.

But alas, here she was in the apartment of a guy she didn’t know, handcuffed to his couch—and not in a kinky way—and the asshole knew her real name.Fuck.

Hearing him call her that name was like a punch to the gut, getting the wind knocked right out of her. It was the first time someone had called her that in a very long time. In fact, the last time she heard that name it came straight out of the devil’s mouth. And now, hearing someone call her that after all these years had her wanting to break down and throw up at the same damn time.

Scarlet glanced at the cuff around her wrist, thinking about how close she came to vomiting all over Hunter’s expensive tiled floor when she felt it lock around her arm.

Two things. There were two things that scared the shit out of her—being trapped in confined areas, and being restrained, leaving her defenseless and helpless. Just thinking about being unable to run, incapable of defending herself had her insides twisted, as if barbed wire was being tightened around her stomach.

At least he didn’t cuff both her hands, which made it bearable—just.

Man, her arm was starting to ache. How the hell did this asshole expect her to get any sleep cuffed to his damn couch?

Scarlet scooted up a little and placed her hand on her forehead. Her head was pounding, her ears ringing, sure signs that a migraine was about to crack open her skull.

A soft beep sounded and she glanced over to the bed where Hunter sat up and answered his phone.

“Yeah? Now? Sure, whatever. I’ll be there in twenty.”

Hunter tossed his phone next to him and pulled both hands through his disheveled hair.

Who would be phoning him at this hour? And who would he be meeting at this time? Probably a skank. A married woman from fuck knew where who just landed in Chicago and needed to be satisfied by a big, controlling gorilla man.

Hunter got out of bed—naked.A big, controlling gorilla man with a top notch ass.

“You live in an expensive apartment. You ride an expensive motorcycle. Yet you can’t afford a decent pair of pajama pants.”

“I happen to think the best pants is no pants.”

Scarlet unashamedly watched as he pulled pants from his closet. It was dark, with only the city lights shining into the apartment. The broad expanse of his back, the ripples of each and every muscle, was magnified with the shadows the light casted directly onto him. She had just enough light to see that almost his entire upper back was covered in a circular-shaped tattoo, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Her gaze lingered longer than it should, admiring the naked man in front of her while biting into her lower lip.

The curve of his back down his spine, and the way his sides narrowed toward his hips brought her attention straight to the firm, round cheeks that had her imagining nails pushed deep into flesh. And those thighs? Good Lord, his one thigh was bigger than both of hers combined. The thought of the amount of power and strength that pulsed through that body ignited an aching need that pooled between her legs.

The moment he pulled a pair of tracksuit pants over his naked ass, she pouted. That was a show she never wanted to end.

She turned away and stared out the window in front of her while trying clench her thighs to alleviate some of the pressure. “You know, it’s considered rude to walk around naked when you have guests.”

Hunter came to stand in front of her and pulled his shirt over his head. “Says the guest currently handcuffed to my couch—in her bra.”

“Not by choice.”

“What, the handcuffed part? Or the being in your bra part?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you pick one?”

For a few seconds he just stood there, staring down at her with his intense green eyes, to a point where she started to feel slightly uncomfortable under his gaze.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing. I’ll be back in two hours.”

“Where are you going?”

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