Page 90 of Through the Flames
“Hunter!” I twisted toward him, grabbing for it, but his arm was a steel bar I couldn’t budge.
“Later,” he said flatly into the mic before ending the call with a decisive tap.
I shoved at his shoulder, straddling one knee over his thigh to get leverage. “You can’t just hang up on my brother because—”
“Because he’s annoying,” Hunter cut in, calmly.
“Hunter,” I hissed, my hair falling into my face as I stretched for the phone again. “Give it back.”
“Make me.” His voice was so low, I felt it more than I heard it.
My pulse spiked. “What did you just—”
He didn’t repeat himself. His arm stayed stretched out effortlessly while I scrambled on top of him like a desperate fool.
His free hand slid to my thigh, gripping just above my bare knee, where his rules said clothing didn’t exist.
My breath stuttered out. “Hunter…”
His thumb dragged in one slow stroke up my inner thigh. A spark detonated low in my stomach. The phone? Completely forgotten now.
“You were saying?” His mouth curved into somethingalmostresembling a smile before his hand shot up to the back of my neck, pulling me forward until his lips brushed the shell of my ear.
The phone slipped from his grip and hit the floor with a dull thud as his other hand hooked behind my knee, yanking me fully onto his lap.
Twenty Four
Ella
Silence.Again. Deafening silence.
Was he aware how much I hated it? How desperately I wanted to fill it?
Probably not, considering his fingers were flying over the keyboard, completely tuned out, like he hadn’t fucking ruined me half an hour ago. Like his taste wasn’t still lingering on my tongue, like he hadn’t fucked my mouth like a man possessed.
The blue glow from his screens illuminated his hulking form, outlining those impossibly broad shoulders, and the restlessness was coiling tight in my chest.
I was trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling, sprawled out in his bed, scrolling through my phone as if this situation wasn’t eating me alive.
This was supposed to be simple.
A deal, a way to save my brother.
I shouldn’t care what he did after, shouldn’t want more than the raw, filthy way he used me. I definitely shouldn’t be enjoying this or craving more.
And yet, all I wanted wasmore. I wanted him, all of him, wanted everything he had to give. I wanted to belong to him, and I wanted him to belong to me. Not just in here, but out there too.
Whenever Hunter touched me, it was like stepping into fire. Pure, blistering heat licking up every nerve ending, but his walls never came down.
As it turned out I was shit at keeping my feelings out of this cute little deal. Apparently, my type was “emotionally constipated but with perfect jawlines.”
But the way he used my body and then tucked me away like some well-worn toy?
It was breaking something inside me, shattering the fragile parts I thought I’d glued back together years ago.
Back home, they’d called me every name in the book, ‘slut’, ‘trash’, ‘easy’,as though a rumor could define me better than my own skin ever could. I’d sworn I’d never let this shit get to me again.
And yet, here I was, feeling the same sharp sting, like I wasn’t good enough for more than a quick, dirty secret. Like no matter what I gave, there was always something wrong with me.
