Page 96 of Through the Flames
If it was true, and he’d been watching me all this time … Ishouldbe terrified. Instead, all I could feel was a heat coiling low in my belly and spreading like wildfire.
I sunk onto the edge of the bed, the hoodie I was wearing bunching around me, fingers twisted in the hem like it might ground me. My heart hammered against my ribs, loud and hot.
If he was, what did that mean?
He didn’t trust me? He wanted control? Or … he couldn’t stop looking?
The thought landed like a punch to my chest and then slid lower, deeper, until I was breathing shallowly.
Every guy before him got bored. Drifted. Left me wondering what was wrong with me.
Not Hunter. Hunter didn’t drift, he didn’t move on.
He watched, he planned, he took what he wanted, and he kept it.
And if what he wanted wasme…
If all this time he’d been watching me, maybe even fantasizing about me.Fuck, I couldn’t breathe.
I should be running or calling someone, but instead I was sitting here, thighs pressed tight, wondering if one of those tiny lenses was on me right now. Wondering what he’d do if I stared right into it and said his name.
But then, I thought of something better. A slow smirk curled around my lips as a plan began forming in my head.
***
The night air bit against my skin as I slipped out the back door, my bare feet silent on the deck. I let the towel wrappedaround my body slip off me, placing it over the chair in the far corner.
If I was right, I wouldn’t be needing it. Bare and exposed, I felt the thrill of a midnight skinny-dip pulse through me.
Steam curled up from the hot tub, ghosting around me as I dipped a foot into the water. Goosebumps erupted on my skin, and I hurriedly stepped in.
The bubbling water licked at my thighs, rising higher, embracing me as I sank in with a soft sigh. My gaze then slid sideways, toward the shadowed corner where the tiny green light winked like the world’s dirtiest invitation.
A slow smile curved my lips.
If you’re watching, Hunter … don’t blink.
I stretched out, letting the water slick over my breasts, the heat seeping into my bones. My fingers skimmed lazily over my stomach, nails trailing faint lines. Down. Lower.
My thighs parted under the water, the bubbles masking what I was doing, but the movements? They’d show, and I so desperatelywantedhim to see.
My middle finger circled idly over my clit, slow, teasing spirals that made my hips twitch. A breath shuddered out of me, catching in my throat, and I bit down on a whimper, then let it slip, soft and breathy.
I pictured him sitting there, jaw tight, fists clenched, watching every flick of my wrist, every twitch of my body, every breathy sound that wasn’t quite a moan but close enough to gut him.
God, I wanted him gutted. I wanted him to be as desperate for me as I was for him.
“Fuck …” The word ghosted past my lips, barely audible over the churn of the jets, but I imagined it bleeding through a speaker, straight into his ears.
My fingers worked faster now, water splashing softly against my stomach. I curled two fingers inside me, my back arching as heat detonated low in my belly.
“Hunter,” I breathed his name, knowing what it did to him.
The thought of him being able to see everything — how my body shook and how my mouth parted — sucked me in closer, tighter, until the climax hit like a current, ripping through me as the world blurred into steam, stars and sin.
When I finally stilled, chest heaving, I turned my head toward the shadowed corner, my pulse hammering like a countdown.
Your move.
