Page 56 of Regret

“And you’re not?” He filled his shot glass again. This time Scarlet joined in and they both tossed the tequila back.

After allowing the burn of the alcohol to settle in her stomach, she looked at him. “I guess I’m used to the feeling.”

For a brief moment, their gazes locked. Flashes of him having her pinned against his apartment window with his hand between her legs had her mind reeling in a hundred different dirty directions. There was no way she would be able to deny that he woke a kind of desire inside her that had her thighs clenching at the thought of how hard and big he felt in her hand when she touched him. It was real fucking intense, and it scared the crap out of her.

Breaking eye contact, she reached for the bottle and poured each of them another shot. “So, what is it you do exactly, Mr. Keaton? Besides stalk women, wanting to be a good Samaritan every chance you get?” She swallowed another mouthful of tequila before shooting him a challenging look.

“I don’t go around wanting to help every woman I meet, Scarlet.”

“Then why are you so hell-bent on helping me?”

With his elbows on the counter, he leaned forward and hung his head down. “That’s a good fucking question.” He looked up, green eyes searching hers like he was looking for something inside them. “It’s a good question, because I don’t know the answer to that myself.”

From out of nowhere, it felt like someone had ramped up the heat by fifty degrees, the atmosphere suddenly thick with tension—theI want to tear your clothes off and screw your brains outkind of tension.

With a sudden dry throat, Scarlet gulped down another shot of alcohol. For some weird and unexplainable reason, she now felt real nervous being around him and his body that had become real distracting.

Probably feeling the pulsing tension between them as well, Hunter cleared his throat and placed his empty shot glass on the counter. “I need to go change the security code of the lock key.”

“Why?”

“I’ll be changing that security code every few hours during the time we’ll be staying here. We can go out, but no one can come in without that code.”

“How long are we going to stay here?”

He turned around and looked at her pointedly. “For as long as it takes me to figure out exactly what’s going on.”

It wasn’t an invitation for her to tell him what was going on. It wasn’t a dropped hint for her to open up and tell him all her secrets. Oh no. It was a promise. A vow that he would figure out everything about her and her past, and it was only a matter of time until he did.

Scarlet watched as he disappeared behind the wall that separated the entryway from the living area. There were a few beeping sounds as he reprogrammed the security code, and then he walked toward the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower. Try not to bury yourself in the bottom of that tequila bottle.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny, asshole.”

“I’m not kidding.”

Hunter stomped up the stairs, and when she heard the bedroom door shut, Scarlet pushed the shot glass to the side and grabbed the bottle, pouring the alcohol down her throat in one stream of liquid satisfaction. The more she drank, the less the sting was. Alcohol was the only thing that numbed her, that silenced the voices inside her head. She wasn’t an alcoholic—or at least she didn’t think she was. But alcohol did help her clear her head and take the edge off living with all the fucked up shit she had to deal with. God knew she needed something to silence the demons, to push away the memories. Without some relief from the ghosts of her past, she would have been certifiably insane a long time ago. Most nights she was too scared to even close her eyes in fear that he might come for her in her dreams. They may not have been real, her nightmares, but it was just as painful. She would wake up trying to claw her own damn skin off just to get rid of his touch, the feel of his wickedness against her flesh.

Talk about problems. It seemed that with Hunter Keaton came an entirely new set of problems. Not only was he determined to uncover her secrets, but he was instigating a war between her body and her head. Her body telling her that she really wanted to succumb to the temptation that was him, and her head trying to convince her no one could be trusted. Until now, she had only depended on herself for survival. Now there was Hunter, nothing more than a stranger, trying to get her to open up.

But how was she supposed to tell him, to let him in—to trust him? Was she even capable of trusting anyone anymore? It had been such a long time since she had freely trusted anyone, and look where that got her.

“Fuck,” she muttered when she placed the bottle back on the counter. For so long she had done great on her own, doing her own thing and not relying on anyone. But she wasn’t an idiot. She knew she really fucking needed help. For the last two days, Hunter had seemed adamant to help her—why, she didn’t know—and now there was this tiny glimmer of hope that maybe he could. Maybe Hunter could help her finally get her life back. Was it stupid and reckless of her to even harbor that little glimmer of hope? Probably…definitely.

Yet every molecule inside her wanted to trust him so badly, to be able to rely on someone else but herself for a change. A part of her wanted to open up, but she just couldn’t. He knew too much already. And judging by the way he managed to make her thighs clench just by looking at her, it was probably a sign that she was in too deep already.

Whenever she allowed herself to admire that hard as stone body of his, all she thought about was sex, sex, and more sex. It was like her body was just drawn to his somehow, needing it against her whenever they were near each other. It was the weirdest fucking thing.

But she knew Hunter’s type. The type of man that got off on controlling women sexually, to dominate. There was no way he would give up control to a woman. But that knowledge didn’t stop her from thinking about how much fun it would be to see how far he could be pushed, if she could crack him and make him give up control.

Just thinking about it caused a throbbing ache between her legs. All these thoughts of Hunter and sex and what it would feel like to have both at the same time had her heart racing, her spine tingling, and her insides coiled tight. It had been a while since Scarlet had allowed herself to enjoy all the pleasures a man had to offer. Having Hunter and that damn body of his around, exuding promises of sexual indulgence and gratification, was wreaking havoc inside her.

Dammit.

Scarlet shot back another mouthful of tequila in an attempt to tame the raging lust that threatened to bring forth the slut in her. She needed a distraction from her horny, dirty little mind. Something black laying on the counter caught her eye. A wallet.Hunter’swallet.

Glancing down to the white men’s shirt she had on, along with the leather pants she had been wearing for the last two days, a great idea popped into her head.

She needed a distraction…and a distraction she would get.

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