Untamed Hearts (6 page)

Ready to walk away.

But it’s too late, I couldn’t stop if I tried. I
want this more than anything, more than the last threads of my
self-control. I buck against his hand, needing more, desperate. His
finger slide lower still, pausing at my entrance.

Hunter lets out a raw curse against my ear.
“God, Brit, you’re so wet. You’re so ready for me.”

I blush against him, but I’m too far gone to
care, whimpering, writhing against him, needing more. Him. Now.

Hunter slides one finger deep inside of me, and
I lose my mind.

“Oh!” My cry echoes in the dark room, a sound of
shock and desperate need. We’re pressed together, not an inch left
between us now. My breasts are crushed against his chest, swollen
and aching; his hand bewitching me between my thighs. I rock
against him, mindless, lost in the ecstasy he’s unleashing with
just his miraculous fingertips: curling up into me, sliding out,
circling and teasing, and plunging into me again, a relentless
rhythm, dangerous, intoxicating. I move with his hand, desperate,
the fire burning higher. Hunter flickers his finger inside of me
and I bite down on his shoulder, whimpering. I’m closer, so close,
at the edge of everything, desperate to fall, to let go, to be
undone.

“Brit,” Hunter growls, pausing, and when I lift
my head, I see his jaw is clenched with agonized tension. His words
are hoarse, breath ragged, and I can feel his desire, pressing hard
into my lap. “Tell me, now. Please.”

My mind is blank with lust, but I realize in a
flash what he’s asking of me. He needs to know, if this is all I
want—if this is as far as we’ll go. Or if I want more.

Everything.

Even in the midst of this inferno, with every
atom of my being crying out for him, I can’t help but feel a pang
of bittersweet regret. This boy is a gentleman, through and
through. The kind I’ve only dreamed existed. Other guys would be on
me by now, pushing, rushing, hungry to sate their need, hell, even
I would assume I’m a sure thing by now. My dress is bunched around
my waist, my skin mottled with desire, his hands on me,
everywhere—and still, Hunter is making sure that this is what I
want.

My choice.

But you can never have what you really want, a
treacherous voice whispers to me. You’ll never know what it’s like
to rest in these arms forever. All you can choose is tonight. A
glimpse of heaven, a brief taste of its golden pleasure.

“Yes.” I breathe into him, dropping a kiss on
those perfect lips. “I want you. I want it all.”

Hunter exhales in a gasp, and then he’s lifting
me from his lap, setting me gently down on the ground. I shimmy out
of my dress and panties as he strips off his jeans and finds a
condom in his wallet, then he twists back around to lay above me,
braced on his forearms, cradled between my thighs.

I stare up at him, the breath suddenly robbed
from my lungs. I’ve never regretted my past before, the things I’ve
done—and the guys I’ve done them with. But right now, I can’t help
wishing that Hunter was the first.

The only one.

He gazes down at me, his lips creasing in a
devastating smile. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed
about this,” he whispers, dipping lower to touch his lips to mine
in a gentle kiss. His lips are cool and soft, barely caressing mine
with their velvet touch, but the fire in my body blazes back to
life, roaring and wild. Suddenly, I know, everything that came
before doesn’t exist anymore. He’s not my first, but he’s the first
to matter. The first to make me feel this way. And that’s all I’ll
ever need.

I reach up, deepening the kiss, pulling his body
down and glorying in the friction of his flesh against mine. Hunter
groans, his tongue exploring my mouth as he slips his hand down my
body to cup my breast, teasing me, trailing his fingertips down
over my stomach and between my thighs. This time, he circles
lightly, maddening, until I’m whimpering again, the ache inside of
me restless and crying out for more.

“Hunter,” I gasp, teetering on the edge of
darkness again. “God, I need you. Now.”

Hunter rises up, positioning himself between my
thighs. His eyes are dark with desire, wild and burning with a
passion that makes my heart stop and my body call out to him. This
man is all I’ll ever want.

He slides into me slowly.

Holy Christ!

Every inch is a new wave of sensation, filling
me up, stretching me with a glorious ache, until I’m arching up
against him, taking all of him to the very hilt. Hunter groans
above me, and I flex around him in response, mindless at how good
he feels, how perfect the thick length of him feels, hard and deep,
filling me up.

And then he’s pulling out of me, and I gasp for
air, whimpering in protest. Hunter buries his face against my neck,
biting down as he surges inside me again, this time hitting deeper,
harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure slamming through my
body.

God! I cry out, grasping for him, bucking
against him, finding the rhythm that turns the shockwaves to an
earthquake, my restless ache to an agonizing hunger. Every
movement, every new thrust sends my world shattering further apart,
until I lose words. I forget time. Nothing else exists, except the
breathless slide of his body surging into me, the tension coiling
tighter between my thighs.

“Brit,” Hunter gasps, slowing the pace, rolling
me onto my side so we’re facing each other, cradling my face in his
hands. And now it’s too sweet, too fucking sweet, relentless, the
thickness of him inside of me, slowly sliding, hitting just right,
so deep. I moan, nails digging into his back, holding on for dear
life. There’s a thick pleasure building in my veins, an unfamiliar
shiver snaking through my limbs, but I can’t let go, it’s all still
out of reach.

“Hunter,” I gasp, shaking. “God, Hunter,
please...”

He pulls his torso back from me, and I let out a
sound of protest at the space between us, but now the angle is
different, deeper. He thrusts again, circling his hips, and I
shudder at the new pressure, this fresh torment. Hunter’s eyes are
on mine, piercing deep into my soul, demanding, urging me on. My
mouth is open, wordless, imploring, every slide of him inside of me
unbearably sweet but not enough, it’s not enough to shatter this
wall, solid and aching, strung out with tense agony.

“Brit,” Hunter whispers my name again. He
circles his hips again, making me cry out with pleasure as his face
relaxes into a perfect smile. “My Brit.”

And then he slips his hand between us, finding
the aching heart of me. His fingers pulsate against me as he
thrusts again, hard, and I come apart in his arms.

The pleasure shatters through me, a crescendo,
setting every nerve alive, screaming a symphony through my body
that takes every thought from my mind and robs the breath from my
lungs. I hear Hunter cry out, feel him shudder against me, but I’m
falling, falling over and over, as if there’s no Earth, no sky, no
stars; just the gravity of pleasure and the velvet darkness that
surrounds me, and Hunter, only Hunter.

Only him.

***

She falls asleep in my arms, wrapped tight,
her face more peaceful than I’ve ever seen before. I can’t rest, or
even close my eyes, I just watch her, holding her tight, wishing
this night would never end.

She’s changed me.

I can’t explain it, but making love to Brit was
more than just a physical act, the embrace of two bodies the way
it’s always been before. Moving inside her, watching her face
change as her pleasure took over... It shook me like I’ve never
known. Laying here, adrenalin still racing through my veins, I feel
different. Reborn. Like my body has split apart into a thousand
pieces, and then reassembled into someone new.

Someone better.

Brit shifts in her sleep, rolling closer against
me with a faint murmur. Her silken hair brushes against my cheek,
her warmth seeping through my sweater. I hold her tight, almost
scared to breathe in case I wake her and break this magic spell.
It’s still dark outside the small, dusty window, still night, but I
know that dawn will be breaking soon, and with it, an unknown
tomorrow.

What happens now?

Leaving Beachwood seems unthinkable. Letting her
go, tearing myself from her side—my heart clenches in my chest just
at the idea. No, I order myself, you have to be rational, you have
to make a plan.

So I do. Laying in the dark lighthouse, Brit
wrapped around me, I sketch out the future, so vivid I can almost
see it. I have college, and she’s in school, too young for anything
else just yet. But there are holidays, vacations, summer and
Christmas. Yale is a ten hour drive away, non-stop, but I can make
that every other week for her.

For Brit, I’d drive a thousand miles and not
even stop for sleep.

I feel tiredness pulling at me. I snuggle
against her, listening to the even sound of her breath, feeling her
soft curves against my body. Yes, I decide. It’ll work. It has to.
Because knowing Brit now—tasting the sweetness of her lips,
touching the curve of her body, seeing the brightness in her soul—I
have no other choice.

She’s mine. I’m hers. We’ll be together now, and
that’s all I’ll ever need.

***

I wake at dawn, curled tight in Hunter’s
arms, feeling a safety I’ve never known.

It breaks my heart clean in two.

I roll over, drinking in the sight of him,
trying to burn it on my memory. He looks so peaceful in the
early-morning light: his hair mussed, the shadow of golden stubble
on his face. I could stay here watching him forever, but I know,
I’ve already stayed too long.

I slip out from under his arm. Hunter mumbles,
then rolls over, still asleep. I quickly find my underwear, and
pull my dress back over my head. I pick up the sweater he loaned
me, then pause, bringing it up to my face.

It smells of him: clean, and warm, like sunshine
and the ocean spray. I want to keep it, keep something of him, but
I know, it’ll only make this so much harder, so I fold it
carefully, and place the sweater by his head.

Hunter...

I watch him a moment more. Every instinct in my
body is screaming to lay back down, tuck myself inside the warmth
of his embrace, hold on tight to him and never let go, but I know,
it’s all just a fantasy. A fairy-tale of some happily-ever-after, I
know better than to believe.

I could love him, I know. I think I already do.
But I can never have him. He’ll only break my heart.

A sob rises in my chest, and now the wretched
pain is too much to bear. Tears sting the back of my throat, and I
quickly hurry, stumbling out of the door and across the cold, wet
sand as the grief and loss takes over. I bend double, shaking,
trying my hardest not to make a sound.

It’s over.

My night with him. My one, glorious, perfect
night is done. The sun is rising, the bay is soft with rosy morning
light, and everything I had—everything we shared—is gone.

I wish it could be different. God, I wish it
with every fiber of my soul. But he’s Hunter Covington, the boy
with everything and I’m Brittany Ray: the daughter of a junkie and
a disappointment. He’s leaving Beachwood, and I’m stuck right here.
Even if he wanted to, even if we tried, it would never work. I’ve
seen what happens with men, over and over again. He would only let
me down, the way people always do. And this—last night—would be
tarnished forever, chipped away with every disappointed phone call
and half-hearted visit, until the memory was tainted with
resentment and regret.

I couldn’t bear it. I don’t ever want to regret
him.

I don’t ever want to see him let me down.

I pull myself upright, gasping a lungful of the
crisp, early-morning air. The lighthouse stands, silent, betraying
not a hint of our secret night.