Page 42 of Wretched Heart
He’s resting against the bathroom doorframe, his shirt sleeves rolled up as he watches me.
I shrug. “It was only two hits,” I say. “And I know how to tense at just the right time to lessen the blow.”
Seeing the lines that crease Hunter’s brow is worse than any injury. It’s like a stab to the heart, and a sure sign thatI’m feeling more for this man than is good for me. I lean forward to unbuckle my sandals, clenching my jaw as I breathe through the pain that ripples through my bruised abdomen.
A shadow falls over me. “Let me do that,” Hunter says, crouching down.
“Is Hugo still alive?” I ask as he pulls off my sandal and massages my foot.
“For now,” Hunter says without looking up. “But I can’t promise for how long.” He takes off my other shoe, then stills. “I know I said I wasn’t one of the bad guys, but I’m not a good guy either, Maddie.”
I cup Hunter’s cheek, inviting him to lift his head. “You’re good to me, and that’s enough.” It’s more than enough. No one has ever been this good to me before.
When Hunter leans towards me, my eyes close and my lips part, but he plants his kiss on my forehead, leaving me wanting. I’m losing hope that he’ll ever kiss me properly again, but when he pulls me to my feet and leads me to the bathroom, he makes no attempt to leave.
The room is filled with wild mint and lemon scented steam, and the bath is full of bubbles. Hunter checks the temperature and adds a little more hot water. Once he’s satisfied, he stalks back to where I wait for him, completely under his spell.
His smile has a touch of a smirk as he starts unbuttoning my cotton shirt. He’s waiting for me to object to this level of intimacy. I don’t. I let him strip me to my underwear, and when I simply wait, he unhooks my bra. His knuckles brush against the curve of my breasts, but he doesn’t play with my nipples. They harden anyway.
Hunter crouches down to pull down my panties, and as I wriggle out of them, I’m aware of how wet I am. Hunterleans closer as if he knows too, but he doesn’t lick or taste me, or do any of those things I want him to do with his tongue. Instead, he kisses the reddened marks on my belly that are deepening into bruises.
I go to thread my fingers through his hair, but he straightens up, and my attempt to guide his kisses lower fails.
“Bath,” he orders, taking my hand.
He helps me into the bath, and I sink into the warm suds. My aches start to ease, but other muscles contract as I take in the man standing over me. Hunter circles the edge of the bath, moving out of sight where he thinks I won’t see how he’s reacting to my bath-time.
He lifts up my hair, keeping it out of the water as I sink a little deeper. “Do you want to get your hair wet?”
“It doesn’t matter, everywhere else is wet.”
My words hit their mark, and there’s a soft groan from behind me as Hunter sinks to his knees.
He drapes my hair over the bath and grabs a loofah. “I thought you were running back to Hugo,” he confesses as he lifts one of my arms and begins washing me. “It crossed my mind that you might use what you’ve learned of our plans against us.”
I entwine my fingers in his briefly. “I’d never betray you. And if ever I had to run, it would be in the opposite direction to Hugo.”
“Unless he was standing next to a fucking library,” Hunter growls as he moves his attention to my other arm. “You put yourself in harm’s way for a load of dusty books for fuck’s sake. Haven’t you got an App on your phone, or something?”
It would seem Hunter hasn’t completely let go of the anger I’d felt radiating off him when he’d appearedover Hugo’s shoulder. My twisted brain had leapt to the assumption that he was angry with me, but this grumbling man behind me is not a monster. Or if he is, then I am too. I’d wanted him to slice Hugo’s throat right there in front of me.
“It’s not the same when I read on my cell phone,” I say with an easy smile despite my dark thoughts. “I was missing the smell of real books.”
Hunter sweeps my hair from the side of my face, and uses the loofah to gently graze my neck before moving it lower. I feel his breath next to my ear. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Heat pools at my center, and I ignore the pain from my bruised abdomen as I draw my legs up. I pull the loofah from Hunter’s hand and drop it over the side of the bath. It’s his hands I want on me, and I guide his fingers to my peaked nipples.
Lips press against the sensitive skin beneath my ear as Hunter palms my breasts, his fingers kneading my flesh.
“I only came in here to bathe you,” he whispers.
I turn my head, searching out his lips. “That might have been what your head was thinking, but it looked like your cock had other ideas when you helped me into the bath.”
He offers just one tender kiss. “My dick has a mind of its own.”
“So do I,” I warn. “Get in the bath, Hunter.”
“Maddie…”
