Hunter (Sons of Rebellion Book 2) (5 page)

"HUNTER," I ASKED. "WHAT are you doing here?"

The words seemed to fall out of my mouth. Once we were out, I wanted to take them back, but I couldn't. What would he say? Would he tell me the truth? A lie? Would I even know the difference?

I should have asked later. Some other time when we weren't sprawled out on the bed after he'd fucked me on a table. That couldn't have been the best time. Oh well. It was too late now to take the words back. I couldn't live in a dream world anymore.

"What am I doing? Could say I'm resting up for another round," Hunter said. A smirk came over his face.

"No," I said. "What are you doing here, in my town?"

The smirk disappeared. Hunter's face went serious.

"I'm just passing through," he said.

"So why don't you ever take me back to your place? Why are we always in random hotels?"

"You know our clubs don't get along," he said.

That was true, but I could tell that it wasn't the
whole
truth. What was he keeping from me?

"Why –"

I was cut off by the ringing of Hunter's phone. He got up to answer it, but stopped when he saw the screen. Instead of answering, he put the phone on silent and came back to bed.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"No one," he said. "Nothing important."

I lowered my head, curling in on myself. My body felt heavy. It was like I was falling into a deep dark hole. I wanted to yell, scream, but I couldn't. The sounds caught in my throat.

I didn't have anything to prove it, but it felt like he was feeding me one lie after another. Why?

An answer kept itself at the back of my mind, but I didn't want to believe it. It didn't seem fair. I looked back up, letting my eyes travel over Hunter's body. As I looked at him, I saw many things. I saw the map of scars that covered his skin. The sweat that dripped over his muscles. The one man I wasn't supposed to fall for.

Was that what a killer looked like?

Hunter's hand was still bleeding. I grabbed it and sat up.

I probably should have just left. Maybe I should have asked him directly, "Did you kill my Uncle Slick?" But I didn't.

Instead, I pulled Hunter over to the bathroom and ran water over his bleeding knuckles. I wanted this time to last just a little longer.
Just a little
.
 

I found the first aid kit and pressed antibiotics into the wound. His hands were rough and large, covered in calluses. Were those the hands of a killer? Did they get bloody ending the life of an old man?

Maybe this would be the last time I saw Hunter. It was selfish, but I wanted to treasure this little moment. I should have called home and let them know, but I didn't. I held on to Hunter's lie. Stupid, right?

His lips pressed against my forehead.

"I got you all dirty," he said.
 

It was true. In the light of the bathroom, I could see that my skin was covered in smudges of dirt. Hunter wasn't any cleaner.

He peeled off my dress, leaving it on the floor. Then Hunter turned on the shower and stepped inside, taking me with him. At first, I shied away from the cold blast of water, but when it warmed up I relaxed.

"You've got to expect to be dirty sometimes if you're involved with a biker," Hunter said. "I was working this morning. Must've gotten dirty."

My chest clenched. Was "working" what he called it?

Hunter grabbed the tiny hotel bar of soap and started to lather it between his hands. At first, it was dark brown, but eventually it foamed white. He rubbed the lather over my body. Goosebumps came all over my skin.

It felt good. I didn't want it to. I wanted to be angry at him, but I couldn't. It was hard to tear my mind away from the feeling of warm water pouring over my skin and Hunter's hands slipping over my breasts, slick with soap.

As his hands touched every part of me, Hunter's dick grew hard. When he washed my hair, it pressed up against my stomach. When he stood away, water dripped from the pink tip. Already, we both knew what was going to happen.

Hunter pushed me against the tile of the shower. The cold stone made me shiver for a moment. He picked up a complementary condom from the side of the sink and threw it on himself before coming back to me.

I was a little worried. The floor was slick with soap and it seemed like it would be a little too easy to fall and break an arm in the shower. But when Hunter held me, all that went away. He picked up my right leg, bringing it high, and supported the rest of my body in his strong arms.

It felt stable, secure, like I wasn't going anywhere. That was good, because as soon as Hunter slid into me I couldn't support myself anyway. I fell onto his chest and held on with my arms around his neck. The hot water kept beating against us, sliding down our skin.

Hunter's dark hair fell into his eyes, plastered down by the water. He groaned with each thrust, picking my whole body into the air. Something about the shower made everything feel different. I was sure that I could feel every muscle on his body, every scar. I could feel every inch of his hot dick as it slid in and out of me.

I held him closer, pulling my arms tightly around his body. Hunter's heartbeat pounded against me. I could feel it racing in his chest, throbbing so hard that I was almost sure it would explode. Was it me that made him feel that way?
Yes
. That heart was throbbing for
me
.

My lips caught Hunter's, trapping them in a kiss. Our tongues slid over one another and I felt him swelling, getting even harder inside of me. He picked up the pace, pounding deeper. I moaned against him.

Even if his words weren't true,
this
was. His body wasn't lying to me, it couldn't. He couldn't hide anything from me this way. There was just one more question that mattered.

I brought my mouth to his ear. Water spilled onto my lips as I whispered to him.

"I have one more question for you," I said. "Tell me, Hunter, do you love me?"

As I thought it would, his body answered for him. Hunter's dick swelled, filling me up even more than before. His grunts were wilder, rougher now. He took my hand in his hands and pulled.

I let myself melt into the feeling. The lies didn't matter. All that mattered was this truth. Hunter was
mine
. Whatever else he did, whatever words came out of his mouth, he couldn't deny what his body was telling me. He was mine.

The heat of the steam, the water, and his body all blended into one. I panted, gasping for air as he pounded into me. The whole time, his eyes were open. He never looked away once. He watched every single bit of me.

Suddenly, my stomach tightened. My whole body clenched and a red-hot flash of heat sped down my spine. The pleasure shook my whole body and I let out a ragged moan. I could feel him coming, tensing up and getting ready to shoot into me. He gave a final thrust and groaned with his lips against my cheek.

I'm not sure why I cried. Tears streamed down my face but I hoped that he wouldn't notice them through the streams of water from the shower. Was I happy? Was I sad? I couldn't tell.

We both slumped to the bottom of the shower. Our arms wrapped around each other, holding up bodies tied together while the constant pounding of the shower poured warm water over our skin.

***

When we stood up again, the water was cold.

Hunter picked me up in his arms, carrying me gently over to the bed. He took a dry towel and ran it softly over my skin. Since when were bikers this gentle?

His touches felt like an apology. They were the words that he was too tough to say. A silent atonement. But was I the one to forgive him?

Hunter made me sit up and dried my hair. Then he took the strands in his hands and started to braid. It was a familiar feeling. How had I managed to have my hair braided twice in such a short time?

"You're pretty handy with the braiding," I said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a well groomed little sister."

Hunter's hands stopped for a second. His whole body tensed, but just for a moment. Then he started to braid again.

"I had a sister," he said. "An older sister."

The word "had" hung in the air. I was just about to ask Hunter what he meant when his phone rang again. He picked it up and put it on silent. Then he turned to me.

"It's dark," he said, "if I don't get you back soon, I'm sure the whole town will be looking for you."

"I don't care if-"

He interrupted me with a kiss.

"Don't worry, we'll see each other soon. Nothing's gonna happen to me."

I wasn't so sure.

NINE

WHAT THE FUCK IS taking Slayer so long?

I drained the last of my beer and slammed the bottle on the table. The other empty bottles clattered. How many had I had now? Six? Eight?

Taking him too fucking long to kill an old man.

I held up my hand.
 

"Bartender! Two more over here!" I yelled.

It didn't take long before some pretty thing brought the bottles. She bent over to pop off the tops, and I smacked her ass. The girl turned around and slapped me in the face, but I just smiled. It was worth it.

I pulled out my phone and pushed in Slayer's number.

Where the hell are you?

Even after the two bottles were empty and rolling on the table, he didn't answer. Probably with that girl he picked up. Wasn't
he
the one who was always going on about how we were here on business?

Brent was still playing darts. If I hadn't known him, I wouldn't have believed it. He looked like he could barely stand up, but every single shot was a bull's-eye. What kind of fucked up shit was that? He'd had more to drink than
me
.

I pushed myself out of my chair and wandered over to Brent. I threw my arm over his shoulder.

"Let's get outta here," I said. "I'm
tired
of waiting for him."

"But what if something's up?"

"He knows where we're staying! He's a big boy, I'm sure he can take care of himself."

I dragged Brent over to the door.

"But we
said-"

"Look, you know I'd kill for Slayer. I'd never leave him behind," I said. "But he's probably out getting his dick wet, and I don't see why I shouldn't do the same!"

I pushed the bar door open and pulled us both outside. The air was cold and hit me in the face. We stumbled over to our bikes. How hard would it be to pick up some chicks in this town? All we had to do was take them on a little ride, and we'd be set.

Why couldn't I have some fun too?

"So are you the ones that got our Sergeant at Arms?"

My head snapped up. There were five guys, big ones. They almost had us surrounded.
Shit
, I knew I was too drunk.

 
I recognized the guy in the middle. He was the Treasurer, the next guy on our list. Well, well, well, looks like we didn't even have to go searching for him. He came to
us
.

"And what if we are?" I said.

The Treasurer brought his hands together in front of his chest and cracked his knuckles.

"Then we're gonna make you
pay
," he said.

His buddies looked like they were ready to play, just itching to jump in. Five of them and two of us. Two or three for each of us? We could do that. I stepped forward, but Brent pulled me back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked.

I pushed him off. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to kick these punks' asses."

"Remember that we're not trying to call a lot of attention to ourselves? We are right in front of a packed bar. There's too many people!" Brent said.

"I don't give a fuck. They started this shit."

I turned to the assholes and yelled, "We're gonna pick you off, one by one, until your whole club is wiped off the face of the earth!"

Brent stepped in front of me.

"Look, we don't have a problem with you right now," he said. "Let's do this some other time."

The Treasurer smiled. He pulled out a gun and shot it so that he barely missed Brent's big toe. The ground steamed where the bullet hit.

"Well," he said, "we
do
have a problem. And we want to deal with it.
Right. Now."

That was enough to make Brent drop his good guy act. His lips narrowed into a thin line and his muscles tightened.

"Fuck 'em up?" I asked.

"Fuck 'em up," he said.

I charged at the Treasurer, grabbed his gun, and threw it into the trees. Hands were on me. Two people? It was hard to tell. They threw me off of the boss and onto the ground. A knee rammed into my gut and I curled around the searing pain. The breath shot out of my lungs when a kick landed square into my ribs.

The next thing I heard was a yell. It was Brent. His fist pummeled into a guy's temple. Their head jerked to the side but it didn't take them long to recover. The guy reached out his arms and grabbed Brent by the neck. He squeezed until Brent's face went red and his fingers clawed at the guy's arms.
Shit
! He couldn't breathe.

No way, we weren't going out
that
easy.

I got myself together and started to head over there, but it was already too late. Brent had helped himself. He flung his foot backwards and into the guy's crotch. He screamed and dropped Brent. Bad move.