Page 59 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
He claps his hands together with a loud smack.
I yelp.
And in the silence that follows, I think we both hear it—the faintest pause in the footsteps. Then…retreating steps.
Gone.
Javi exhales slowly, rubbing his hand over his jaw.
“That was smart,” he mutters. “You’re a good actress.”
I sniff, pulling the blanket around myself tighter. “My motivation’s strong when I just got punished in public. Would much rather pretend to be punished in private.”
A flicker of something crosses his face. Not quite a smile. But close.
Then he’s moving—quiet, purposeful. He kneels at the side of the bed, his eyes searching mine. His hand finds mine where it’s balled in the sheets.
“I was serious,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I look away, heat crawling into my face. “I actually kind of…”
No. I can’t say it. I won’t.
I can’t tell him I liked it.
“What, Peach?” he asks, and the way he shortens my name sends a little spark jolting through me.
“Nothing,” I say. “I was just gonna say…it was cruel of him to make you share those things about yourself. He shouldn’t have done that.”
I squeeze his hand, feeling the callouses there. He’s got the palms of a sailor, rough with rope burn. But his knuckles are scarred too, and I have to wonder if he got those scars in Miami. I rub my thumb over them, gazing down at his big, strong hands.I suddenly remember how his palm felt when it slapped against my bare skin, and I consider begging him to do it again.
He jerks his hand away.
“I’m fine,” he says. “And take off the damn collar. I don’t want to see you wearing it in here.”
I reach for the clasp and taking it off, placing it on the side table. I don’t understand his mood swings—how he seems kind one second and grumpy the next.
He sighs and tugs on his beard. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do about this situation with Gideon.”
“What do you mean?” I frown.
Javi shakes his head, not meeting my eyes. “He’s not gonna settle for a few fake beatings, Peach. And I’m not immune to…”
He trails off, jaw working like he’s trying to chew the words before he spits them out.
“To what?” I ask, voice quieter now.
He exhales roughly through his nose. “To what you do to me.”
I freeze. My heart skips.
But then the words twist in my brain, the way everything does here—tainted by the Rig.
“You mean all that stuff he said?” I whisper. “About you being strong enough to handle me? You believe that?”
Javi’s eyes snap to mine.
“No,” he growls. “That’s not—fuck. That’s not what I meant.”
