Taking Him (Lies We Tell) (8 page)

A hand on her head, gentle. Then fingers in her hair, pulling her head up. She didn’t want him to move away. Didn’t want him to go. But she knew by the look on his face that he was going to do both. “You’re okay?” he asked.

No. She wasn’t okay. “Hunter—”

He gathered her hands in his, gently disengaged them from his T-shirt and stepped back from her. “I have to go, Ellie.”

Going? After that? He couldn’t. Surely he couldn’t. “But—”

“I told you. That’s all there is.”

The words died in her throat at the shuttered look on his face. Unbelievably, he began to turn away.

“So that’s it?” she said hoarsely. “You t-touch me like that and then leave?”

“I gave you what you wanted. I didn’t promise you anything else.”

No, he hadn’t. He’d been very, very clear.

Ellie shivered. She hadn’t fantasised this part. Oh no, in her fantasies they were in bed together and after they’d made love, he’d held her. Wrapped those big strong arms around her and kept her safe. He didn’t touch her to orgasm in the hallway, making her tremble and cry, then turn around and leave.

She took a breath, trying to get the shattered parts of her back together again. Then she wrapped her arms around herself, a poor substitute for his arms but it helped. “How clever of you.” She didn’t bother to hide the hurt. He knew anyway. “I must remember that for next time.”

His dark eyes were completely opaque. “There won’t be a next time, sweetness.”

Ellie leaned back against the wall, needing it to hold her up. “Sure. Well, piss off then. Don’t let me keep you.”

Hunter stared at her for one long second, and she thought he was going to say something. But he didn’t. Instead he turned away, going to the front door then walking through it.

Slowly, Ellie let herself slide down the wall to the floor. Folding her arms on her knees, she bent and pressed her face into her arms.

And tried not to cry.

Chapter Five

Hunter headed toward his truck then abruptly changed direction, going toward the garage instead. The vintage Norton he’d bought at considerable expense and was in the process of restoring rested on its stand, the long silver curve of the exhaust shining in the light. He took a breath, his mind carefully blank. His heart was beating very fast.

Walking over to the bike, he sank into a crouch beside it and ran a hand over the exhaust. His fingers burned, but the heat had nothing to do with the metal he was touching. It had everything to do with Ellie.

He swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like he’d been set alight. Like the heat of her body had somehow gotten into him and was in the process of burning him up from the inside out.

What the hell did you do?

He’d touched her. He’d touched Vin’s little sister. The girl he’d once protected. Looked out for. He’d touched her, crossed a line he’d never thought, not in a million years, he’d ever cross.

Cold spread through him, bringing along with it a sickening sense of guilt. And yet somehow that didn’t diminish the fire inside him in the slightest. Or lessen the ache in his cock.

All he’d wanted was a bit of control. A way to stop her confronting him. Stop getting in his face. Stop fucking touching him. That’s all he’d wanted to do. And yet as soon as his hand had found her throat, felt the warmth of her, the frantic beat of her pulse, he hadn’t been able to take it away. Her eyes had been so wide, the smoky gray almost lost in the black of her dilated pupils, and the prosaic lavender of her scent had changed, becoming musky with arousal.

She’d wanted him. Despite the way he’d held her up against the wall by the throat, she’d been aroused. No, not just aroused, she’d been desperate. And he hadn’t… Christ, he hadn’t been able to deny her what she wanted. Even as a child, saying no to her had always been difficult.

So wrong though. So wrong to feel her up in the hallway. Watch her come. See the pleasure so alive and bright in her face.

And then see her burst into tears, you fucker.

Hunter straightened in a sharp movement. Turning, he went over to his other bike, a black Ducati, digging in his pocket for his keys. He didn’t want to think about her sobbing. Didn’t want to think about the way she’d rested her forehead on his shoulder like the child she’d once been, her fingers curled in his T-shirt.

Or about the way that simple gesture had made him remember who she was. And who he was. And that this could never, ever happen between them again.

God, he should have gone when he’d intended. Shouldn’t have let her touch him. Should not have reacted the way he had. But something about her touch ignited flames.

You want her.

No. No he didn’t.

You’re hard for her.

His hand gripped his helmet, and he found himself staring at the shiny black surface of it. Not seeing it. Seeing instead the desire so vivid in her flushed face.

He didn’t get hard for people he knew. Only for strangers. For women he had no connection with, who didn’t mind rules. Who didn’t ask questions and didn’t mind when he didn’t let them touch him. Or when he didn’t screw them.

Which begged the question of why he was getting hard for Ellie. Because this denial was ridiculous when the evidence was pressing against the zip of his jeans, when the ache in his groin was so intense he couldn’t ignore it.

“You want me, Hunter. See? You’re hard for me.”

Hunter shoved his helmet on as if the weight of it could cut out the thick, sensual voice in his head. Not Ellie’s voice, someone much older. More experienced. The feel of her fingers closing around his cock, holding him like she owned him. Like she had a right to him.

By rights it should have killed the hard-on. If there was any fucking justice in the world it should have. But it didn’t. It only made him harder.

For a moment he stood by his bike, wondering what the hell to do. He’d initially planned on a stranger hook-up but now it felt wrong, especially since he could still feel Ellie on his fingers. Still see the desperation in her face. Still hear her cry of release in his ears.

Ah God, this was so screwed up.

Suddenly breathless with the need to break free of the sick mass of desire and guilt and fear and fury that seethed inside him, he pushed his hand into the pocket of his jeans and found the drawing pin that was still in there. Closed his fingers around it, the sharp tip stabbing into his palm, digging in. The pain was a relief. A blessing. A punishment. And a reminder.

Not again. He couldn’t touch her again. That was the only simple thing about the whole sorry mess he’d gotten himself into.

Calmer, he eventually let go of the pin, picking up a rag nearby to wipe away the blood. Then he swung his leg over the bike and sat down, starting the big machine, the roar of the engine filling the garage.

He opened the throttle and five minutes later he was on the road, the wind dragging at his clothing, the twilight settling in around him.

He had no idea where he was going and he didn’t care. To hell and back, probably.

Cafe Manga Xtreme was full of people, and Ellie resented every single one of them. She’d come here to talk to Kara, and the fact the café was busy meant her friend probably wouldn’t have time for a good heart-to-heart.

Going past the rows of computers and the people who were currently glued to them, either playing online games or obsessively checking their social media profiles, Ellie made her way to the collection of old couches at the back of the café, throwing herself down onto one.

Kara was behind the counter, dealing with a customer, but she waved her hand in the air, pointing at Ellie without looking up, indicating she’d seen her and that Ellie’s usual double-shot latte was in progress.

Sighing, Ellie got her iPad out of her bag and put her feet up on the table, kicking aside a stack of josei Manga. Then she looked down at the screen, fiddling around with some sketches for the main character for her latest game idea, the one she hoped the Japanese studio was going to want to develop. It would be for mobile devices, a game app she was pretty confident would be a hit. If she managed to get it right, that was. And at this particular moment, right was a concept she couldn’t quite envisage. Wrong, on the other hand, was a concept she was completely familiar with.

Like lying awake all night, unable to sleep because the stupid man she’d been holding a candle for had finally touched her, only to drop her like a hot brick afterwards. Only to tell her he was giving her what she’d wanted. Nothing more. Like he didn’t even care. Like she meant nothing.

That was wrong. So bloody wrong.

So was the fact that instead of getting angry, instead of demanding more, she’d let him walk away. Had sat in the hallway like a broken doll. Like a pathetic doormat.

Then had avoided him since.

Ellie swore softly, realising she’d somehow drawn a devil’s tail on the big-eyed furry creature that was supposed to be the main character for her game. Crap. She’d been going for cute not freaky.

“So babe, you look tired.” Kara put down Ellie’s coffee and sat beside her.

“Yeah, and back at ya.”

Kara flopped back on the couch. “Touché, babe. Tou-fucking-shay.” Her friend had blue and pink striped hair today, held back from her face with a black headband. But despite the cheerful hair colour, behind the lenses of her glasses her eyes looked shadowed.

“So what’s up?” Ellie asked. Always easier to ask someone about their problems than discuss your own.

“Nothing I want to talk about. What about you?”

“Same.”

“Bullshit.”

“How come I have to tell you when you don’t have to tell me?”

“Because those are the rules. And it’s my café.”

Ellie bit her lip. It was still sore from when she’d bitten it last night. From when Hunter had given her the best orgasm of her life then walked away.

“Uh oh,” Kara murmured, “you look pissed. I’m betting a certain hot, tattooed gentleman is to blame.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re staying with him. Which, I may add, you still haven’t told me much about.”

“Yeah, well, you still won’t tell me why you left the con that night either, so too bloody bad.”

Kara was silent a moment, studying her. Then she pushed her glasses up her nose and said in a quiet voice, “What’s he done, Ell?”

Stupidly Ellie felt her eyes fill with tears. Trying to hide it, she leaned forward and picked up her coffee, taking a long gulp and burning her throat in the process.

“Nothing.” Suddenly she didn’t want to tell Kara what had happened. She wanted to keep it to herself. Keep it private. In the cold light of day she felt ashamed of herself. Of how needy and desperate she’d been. She’d thought she had no shame when it came to him but turned out she did. He’d pretty much decimated her meager stock of female pride then stamped on the pieces of it.

And she still didn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to touch him. Bastard.

“Again with the nothing. Must have been a pretty bad lot of nothing to get you so angry.”

Yeah, she was angry though she was hazy on the reasons for that too. Because she had no right to be, not really. He’d given her what she’d wanted and nothing more. Given her what she’d thought she’d never get. And yet…in the end it wasn’t enough. She’d hoped for sex at least, not a quick fumble in the hallway.

Ellie didn’t look at her friend. “I…” She stopped, trying to think about how she could convey it without telling Kara everything. “Staying with him is harder than I thought.”

“Why? Because he’s hot and you want his body, but he doesn’t know you’re alive? That kind of hard?”

Well, that wasn’t strictly true now, was it? “Uh, kind of. But mainly it’s like…like he’s a different person.” It was the best thing she could come up with and that, at least, was true. She’d been expecting the Hunter she knew. The Hunter she loved. But the man who’d looked at her with the flame in his eyes wasn’t that Hunter. He was different. Darker.

“So what kind of person did you expect him to be?” Kara asked.

“Oh, you know. The person he always is. A tease. A pain in the neck. But kind and, you know, good to be with. Like an older brother.”

“Huh.” Kara wound the end of one long blue strand of hair around her finger. “So he’s not like that at home?”

“No. He’s not.”

“Details?” Kara pulled a face when Ellie didn’t say anything. “No? Okay, well, perhaps you’re expecting him to be someone he’s not.”

“What are you talking about?”

Kara blinked owlishly at her. “Babe, do you actually know him? I mean, not just ‘older brother Hunter’. Not just ‘babysitter Hunter’. Do you actually know Hunter the man?”

An uncomfortable feeling turned over inside her. “Yeah, of course I do.”

“Really? People aren’t always who you think they are, Ell. People wear masks. Shit, isn’t that why we dress up? Why we wear the clothes we do?”

The uncomfortable feeling sat in her stomach like a stone.

What did she know about Hunter? Really know? He liked fiddling around with motorbikes. He liked building things. He had a family he hardly ever saw and didn’t talk about. He’d been kind to her as a kid. Oh, yeah, and his touch set her on fire. But what else did she know? What were his hopes? His dreams? Why did he never talk about his family? What was it he liked so much about making things? Why had he touched her then walked away?