Hunter’s laughing behind me as he catches up to me halfway up the stone steps. His arms go around my ribs and I freeze – waiting for that awful pinch of my fat that many family members have done to me. As if I could forget that my belly was there.
My back is flush to his chest, ass hitting his upper thighs, and Christ, he’s hot! And then, and then! His face nuzzles my neck, kissing that place where shoulder meets throat. I might just die. I may also have made an embarrassing sound – like a moan and a whimper rolled in one. I think I missed my calling as a porn-star sound-maker.
“You keep making those sounds and I’m going to get in trouble,” Hunter says, his voice vibrating in his chest. I can pretend that he wants me, that I’m not drowning in the way he holds me, this craving I’ve always wanted but never got to have. I want it to be like this, always. And it scares the shit out of me.
“I didn’t do anything! You’re the one instigating all the fraking time. C’mon, poor Edouard’s probably all tuckered out; Matty knows how to party.” I move forward, but Hunter’s still at my back. I let him walk us up the stairs like that. He has to catch me a couple of times when I become too distracted by his touch and trip up the stairs, twice. I like the way his laughter sounds and I sure as frak don’t like it when it dies down the closer we get to the front door.
Hunt knocks and we wait.
He doesn’t let go of me, instead wrapping his arms tighter around my ribs, making me come full-contact with every inch of him. I’m going to combust. I bite my lip so I won’t whimper or moan or do anything embarrassing in front of the MacLaine’s butler/pseudo-babysitter.
Edouard opens the door, the wide thing swinging open, light hitting our little patch of porch and Matty half-asleep, wobbling on his feet.
“Why didn’t you just let me come in and get him?” Hunter says, anger making his voice vibrate. He bites off the words like he’s trying to keep himself in control. Hunt steps out from behind me and I lose the heat at my back. I shiver.
Moving forward with him, I watch Edouard’s haggard face, and the way his eyes won’t meet mine, but stay locked on Hunter as he picks up his son.
“What’s he at?” I ask the man. The little guy’s a mass of limbs, legs and arms sprawled as Hunt settles him on a shoulder, head flopping forward between Hunt’s neck and collar bone.
Edouard licks his lips, and straightens his suit jacket. Who the hell is wearing a suit jacket at eleven o’clock at night? Poor guy.
“His levels have come down to a ten. His supper consisted of a hamburger and fries. Dessert was a small bowl of fruit. I checked his sugar an hour ago. I also administered the prescribed dose of insulin right after he ate.”
Hunter isn’t listening, his big hand’s on Matty’s back, rubbing in circles. There’s something more going on here. I can see it in the way Hunter’s movements are stilted, like someone else is holding his strings.
“Thank you, Edouard. You’ve been a great help. I’m Sera, by the way.” I offer my hand for him to shake, smile when he gives me a brisk one. Nothing worse than when people take only your fingers and give them a wiggle.
“Thanks, Eddie. She’s gone to bed, I guess?” Edouard nods at Hunter.
“She’s also been speaking with Alysha, sir. I overheard the phone call while I prepared Matty’s supper.”
Hunter’s shoulders slump, head bowed down. “Alright, Eddie. Have a good night.”
“Come see me once in a while, Hunter. This old house misses you.” Edouard’s face has changed. Gone is the polite mask with which he used to speak to me. Now, looking at Hunt, there’s a friendly concern, features that tell of a history between the two of them. “I miss you. I’ve packed all her things, you needn’t see them, if you do not want. It’s been three years, Hunter.”
“That’s enough, Eddie. I’ve got to go home. G’night.”
Hunter turns and goes down the stairs. I’m rooted to the spot, staring at him walk away from me, walk away from the butler who clearly cares about him.
“Please, Sera. Please watch out for him.”
Edouard looks like he might start bawling.
“I’ll do what I can. Have a good night. Thanks again for all your help.”
“I know if she were here, she would be delighted to see him with you.”
I should be telling him I’m not Hunter’s girlfriend, and it’s not my place to take care of him. I just nod at the cryptic message and go down the stairs. Questions for later, not now. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I can fight Hunter off, I can make myself immune. I can keep my distance.
Liar, liar, pants on fire!
In the car, Hunter’s quiet again. I put my head back on my seat and close my eyes.
“Sera... Wake up for me.” Hunter’s voice has my eyes flashing open. I’m in a car, not my bed, and we’re in the parking lot of our building. I have to get out of the car. Riiiight.
“I’m up, I’m up.” I yawn a jawbreaker, and rub my eyes. My neck is pissed off, and my muscles are sore, but I’d still rather not move. My bed just feels so far away.
“Fuck, you’re cute.”
“I’m still dreaming, aren’t I?” I say, yawning again. “You want me to get Matty or you?”
“I’ll get him. Just make sure you can stand.” Hunter leans in and kisses my cheek. I tremble at the prospect of having his mouth so close to mine. If I were more awake, maybe I would’ve read his intention and moved my face over to get that final mouth-to-mouth contact. Anxiety curdles in my belly.
I can’t kiss Hunter. I’m going to be awful at it, like I’m awful at everything else. I’m going to fuck it up, and he’s going to laugh at me. Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I get myself out of the car, stretching out my spine by reaching for the ceiling.
“Sera?” Matty’s voice is no longer sleepy. I think he got his second wind. He’s draped over Hunter’s body again, but his eyes are wide and alert.
“Yeah, little buddy?” I yawn again, huffing out a breath, and closing my door.
“Can you read to me again? But I want to be in my bed this time. Is that okay, Daddy? Can Sera read to me?”
I only read to him that one time he slept over, and now the kid wants it to become a nightly thing. I smile, and feel the warmth in my chest expand to hit my ribs.
“Only if she isn’t too tired,” Hunter says as we get into the elevator. “And buddy, she looks sleepy.”
“No way, she doesn’t! Look! Her eyes are open.” As if this is the only criteria for being alert. I can’t help but grin.
“Yeah, I’ll read to you. What do you want?” I hold back another yawn, clenching my jaw tight.
“Peter Pan!”
“Again?”
The little guy’s grins. “We didn’t get so far last time, I fell asleep! I want to read about Peter and Wendy going to Neverland!”
“Alright, I’ll get the book and come right over, okay?” I look to Hunt who gives me a nod. “See you in a bit.”
Letting myself into my apartment, I get myself sorted. I brush my teeth, fix my bun, and put on some sweats. I leave the tank on, lock up and head over with my copy of Peter Pan.
Hunter opens the door for me, probably having heard me lock mine.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know. But I want to,” I say. “Where’s Matty’s room?” Hunt grabs my hand and brings me to his room. It’s a geek’s paradise.
“You have Transformers sheets!” Matty’s also got Spider-man pajamas on, the kind with the cuffs at the wrists and ankles. He’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of his room (painted sky blue), the covers half-on, half-off.
“Autobots, roll out!” Matty yells, trying to imitate Optimus Prime. I’m in love.
“Alright, scoot over, kiddo. We’re going to Neverland.”
Matty bounces to the very edge of his bed, almost squishing himself against the wall. Christ, I hope I’m not that big. I lie down next to him, and bring my book up. Without my glasses everything is kin
da blurry, but I manage okay.
“You have to close your eyes now, Matty, and imagine every word I’m telling you, alright? Make a movie in your head with what I’m saying, ok?”
“What does Wendy look like?” Matty asks, frowning.
I zero in my attention on the little guy, ignoring the way I’m still straining to hear where Hunter is in the apartment. “I’ll tell you in a bit. Ready?”
He sits up, staring down at me, blue eyes intense. “Can you be my Wendy?”
I love, love, love this kid. “Sure, kid. Ready now?”
Matty settles down next to me as I hear the shower come on. Time to start reading and forget Hunter. And his naked body in the shower. And the way the water is travelling down, down, down that naked body. And how hard his body is-
Stop! I clear my throat and begin to read, making Matty has closed his eyes. Second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning. I read until I’m sure he’s asleep. He’s also half on me, and I’m afraid to move.
“Hunter?” I call out in a whisper. The hallway’s dark, and I know he got out of the shower a while ago – I was waiting for the water to stop. “Hunt?” I call a little louder, checking if I’ve woken the little guy.
“Yeah?”
Oh, frak. Oh, no. Hunter in...boxers? I close my eyes, but the image is still there, burned into my brain for me to fantasize over later. Oh, God. Of course he was sleeping. I’m so fraking stupid!
“I’m sorry, go back to sleep.” I whisper, keeping my eyes closed. Fraking hell, his perfect, sexy, badass body is painted on my closed eyelids. The broad shoulders, the hard pecs, the abs, the nipple piercings. Every inch of skin I possess starts to tingle, and I try to keep my breathing even.
“Sera, what?” My eyes slam open. Hunter’s standing over me, crouching low so he can hear me. “Are you stuck?”
Look at his face, keep your eyes on his face – SHIT! The damn light flashed off those nipple piercings and fuck, just... fuck. I looked down, I stared at his abs, and his legs and even peeked too long at his groin in his boxers. He’s too sexy, he’s too much, he’s too beautiful. And it’s pissing me off. Stop looking!
“Yeah...yeah. I need help. He’s fallen asleep.”
Hunt grabs my free hand, and slowly tugs me, until one foot is on the ground and the other arm’s still under Matty. I grab the book with my free hand, and slide my arm under his little body and I’m home-free. Both feet on the ground, ready to go. Rocky victory-yells ‘Adrienne!’ in my head.
I stand up fast, not wanting to be face-level with Hunt’s crotch. A nervous laugh escapes me, and I bite my lip to shut myself up.
“I’m just gonna leave now.” I try to bolt, but Hunt’s hand is shackling my wrist keeping me in place unless I want to dislocate my shoulder. It’s an option.
“Why don’t you stay and watch The Goonies with me? It’s playing right now on TV.”
Fraking hell, I looked down again! No one is that perfect! Fucking shit, I can feel my hands curl, and I want to touch him so, so badly.
“Only if you put some clothes on first.”
A small smile runs along the length of his mouth. “You don’t like looking at me?”
Bloody hell, I want to stare at you forever.“It’s not nice to flaunt your genetic makeup in front of other people, Hunter.”
“So that’s a yes.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck. I break out in goose-bumps and slap my hand on where he’s burned me with his lips. “My genetics have fucked me up, too, baby. I’m happy you like the outer package.”
“Oh, yeah, start with the guilt-trip ‘cause you have a faulty pancreas. Go and wear something!” I hiss, whirling to go sit on the couch.
“What will you do if I don’t?”
That’s it. The dangerous tone to his voice, that delectable body – I’m wet. Just from looking. “I can leave, you know. I do have a TV at my place.”
Hunter rubs his skull-trim. “Shit. Gimme a sec.”
Hunter comes back from his room wearing sweats and a white shirt, covering up his awesome tats, and rib muscles and abs and ohmygodI’mgoingtoburstintoflames when Brand is biking on a little girl’s bike to bring Mikey back home.
“Thanks for reading to Matty,” he says, settling himself on the opposite corner of the couch, stretching his legs out so far, he’s hitting the side of my ass cheek and hip, where I’m seated, knees to chest.
“What the hell?!” I swat at his bare feet when he pushes them into my hip. His feet are freezing – bad circulation?
“Why are you so far away?”
“Because. I want to be. I enjoy my personal space. Shut up, I’m missing the funniest part.” Said part being Troy coming up with his Daddy’s convertible with Andy in the car (Brand’s one true love – not really). Troy acts like a dick, keeping Brand’s hands stuck on the vehicle while his feet pedal faster and faster. I crack up every single time.
Hunter’s moving in my peripheral vision, crawling towards me on the couch like a lion prowling in a cage. I might just let him maul me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, eyes still on the screen. I’ve seen this movie a million times. In college, I went through my finals watching this movie as background noise for the entirety of two weeks. I know every single line off by heart. I know what comes next. I can look away for a few seconds.
I want to so bad, but my stomach’s turning, and I can’t get enough air ‘cause Hunter’s in my space breathing it all in. I’m scared, so scared of what’s going to happen next. I don’t want to be bad for him, at anything. I want to be good. But I’ll probably be awful.
“I want you closer,” Hunter rasps, settling himself next to me. We’re flush, hip-to-hip, ribs to ribs, while one arm goes around my shoulders. I’ve seen tons of couples in this position, this subtle reminder of who belongs to who in public places. It feels so fraking good, being enveloped by his warmth. I feel like I belong, like he isn’t ashamed of me, like I am so ashamed of myself.
Dumb as it sounds, I don’t want to move. If this is all Hunt ever wants to offer me, then I’m okay with it. More than okay, actually. Then I remember that Josh or Tommy have put their arms around me just like this, and that we’re friends. This means nothing.
I hug my knees closer to my chest and try to ignore the heat of his arm around me, or what tattoos he has there, ones I haven’t had time to study yet. I rest my chin on my knees and continue watching, until my eyes grow droopy.
“Sera...? Wake up for me, baby. Hi,” Hunter says, gently shaking me awake. He’s looking down at me, while we’re still sitting so close together. God, I hope I haven’t drooled anywhere.
“Hi,” I whisper. “The movie’s done?”
“Almost.” He moves some fallen strands of hair away from my face, puts them behind my ear. My heart clenches again, and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
Kiss me, kiss me, I want to yell, but I don’t. I’m too scared of what’ll happen if he does.
“Can I have a minute? Just give me a minute.” My eyes slide closed again, but I’m aware, and I can hear Sloth yelling. I put my forehead on my forearms, hiding my face in the little enclosed space between arms and knees and thighs. Hunter’s hand slides to the back of my neck, thumbs and fingers moving as he works out the knots there.
I’ve died and gone to a special version of hell – always to be tantalized by Hunter and never to have him. Knowing that I’ll never be good enough for a beautiful man like Hunter MacLaine just about kills me inside.
“Please, stop. Hunter, please. Stop what you’re doing.” It feels too good, loosening my muscles. Now I’m thinking of his hands in other places where I want to be petted.
“Aren’t enjoying it? Fuck, what is it going to take with you?” His hand drops, both of them now resting on his knees.
I turn to him, hands clenched into fists. My jaw’s clenched so tight, I’m not sure I understand me. “I’m not a piece of ass you use your A-game to fuck. I don’t do that – casual sex. Scratch
your fucking itch elsewhere. No one’s stopping you.”
“Prove it.” Hunter says. “I want you, Sera.” I’m paralyzed by the look on his face, and the way his words bombard me with a sweet pain. “But I’m not going to fuck you with Matty in the next room. I’m not going to fuck you, period.” Both of his hands come to either side of my face. “I want you, Sera, and I’m going to prove it to you. Just like you need to prove it to me. Tell me you don’t want me and you can walk out of here without taking a chance on us.”
I pull in a breath, make sure I have full eye-contact in the blue glow of the TV. “I don’t want you.”
“Say it again,” he says, licking his lips, eyes riveted to my mouth. That fraking tingling starts again. “Say it again, Sera.”
“I... I don’t want you like that. I want you as a friend,” I say, and what little strain there is in my words, I’m sure he can’t hear it.
Hunter’s voice is soft and strangely reassuring. “Baby, I’m attracted to you, and the way you look at me tells me you’re into me, too. Friendship isn’t going to work. Now, say it again.” His thumbs swipe my cheekbones. I’ve gone and swallowed my tongue.
I shake my head, my breath huffing in and out. I move to jerk back from his grip, hands going around his wrists.
“Sera, look down at your hands.” I look to where he’s looking. Instead of tightening my grip around his wrists trying to pull them off of me – my thumbs are caressing his inner wrists. “Say it again for me. Tell me you don’t want me.”
If there was enough light, I’m sure his blue eyes would have darkened. Pupil dilation – a classic sign of lust. The body wants to see more of what it wants. I’ve never been lusted after before. I’m not sure I can trust it. Then again, a physiological response can’t be faked.
“I... I don’t want you.” Good girl, Delos! That deserves a brownie.
“Say it again.” More thumb swiping along my cheekbones, back and forth, back and forth. Frak. I’ve leaned closer so his breath is fanning my lips. I’m dizzy with want.