There’s a pause that lasts an eternity, then something shutters closed in Hunter’s eyes. “No,” he says softly. He squeezes my hand, just once, then drops it and takes a step away from me. “Not tonight.”
My heart drops. I look up at him in confusion. He said he wanted me. That I drove him crazy.
“You think I’m a gentleman.” Hunter slowly refastens a button I’ve pulled loose, and adjusts his jeans. I can see him slow his breathing, like it’s taking everything he has to get himself back under control. “So I’m going to live up to that.”
“But…” I can’t find words, or sense, or anything in his denial. I’m still reeling, breathless from his assault on my senses, weak and wet and aching with desire.
“I thought you wanted this.” I finally manage to stutter. “Me.”
Hunter reaches out, and softly tucks a stray lock of hair back behind my ears. “I do. But not like this.”
I blink at him. How else is there?
His lips curve, as if he’s heard my silent confusion. “When I take you, you’re going to want it.”
I try to interrupt, but he presses a finger to my lips. “Not because you think you owe me, or you get carried away, and one thing leads to another,” he corrects me, dipping his mouth closer so I can feel the shiver of his breath, hot against my cheek. “Because you want me. Because I’m all you think about.”
His voice is low and thick with desire, whispering relentlessly in my ear. “Every day, and every night, just imagining what I’ll feel like inside of you. Touching yourself, imagining your hands are mine, until you come crying out my name.”
I shudder, my legs weak. I’m hypnotized by his voice, caught up in the forbidden image of desire he’s painting with his words.
“I’m going to wait for you,” Hunter promises, “I’m going to take you there. And then, when you want me so much, you think you’ll die without me inside you…” He pauses, pulling back to look me straight in the eyes. “I’m going f**k you like you’ve never been f**ked before.”
I gasp, my lips dropping open. Hunter’s fingertip slips into my mouth, and I instinctively close my lips around it to suck. A shudder rolls through me. Hunter watches, his eyes never leaving my face. “You’re going to feel me for days,” he whispers, “I’m going to own you, every part of you. Even your heart.” His lips curl up in a heartbreaking smile.
“Especially your heart.”
As I try my best not to melt into a pool of pure longing right there on the porch, Hunter drops a kiss on my forehead and turns to leave, crossing the front yard in long strides. This time, I don’t wait to watch him go. I know my legs aren’t going to hold me up much longer. I stumble inside and slam the door behind me, sliding down so I’m sitting in a tangle on the floor.
Even your heart.
He wants more than just a fuck, I realize in a daze. He’s not like all the other guys who only want to use me up and throw me away without a second thought. Hunter wants something real, something more than desire, and the quick thrust of our bodies coming together. He wants all of me, even the dark, bruised places I never let anyone see. And he won’t let me have him—let me feel that body plunging into me the way I dream about—until I give him everything, body and soul.
And that’s when I know I’m doomed.
I can fight this, kicking and screaming. I can pretend I’m immune, and in control, and I can walk away any time I choose. But the truth is, I realize, I don’t stand a chance.
Because Hunter Covington is the most noble, sweet, gorgeous, sexy man I’ve ever met. And I’m falling in love with him.
I let my head fall back against the door, the truth crashing over me, as sweet and dangerous as the orgasm that just left me breathless.
Me, Brittany Ray, in love with the golden boy of Beachwood Bay… I would laugh at how crazy it is if I wasn’t so weak with wanting him. Deep down, I still know he can’t be mine, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’d break my heart a hundred times over, just to feel his arms around me again; taste the perfection I’d sworn was just for one night, all those years ago.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Sleep tight. Dream of me.
Hunter is miles away now, but he gets his wish. I fall asleep to the memory of his whispers, so sweet, and the distant crashing of the waves against the shore. I fall asleep, and I dream only of him.
3 years ago…
We walk a mile along the shoreline, Hunter keeping pace with long strides next to me. My heart is pounding the whole time, a voice in my head screaming at me to get the hell away from him, but I can’t go back now, not with him so close, his sweater wrapped around me: still warm from his skin, still smelling of him.
One night. That’s the only way this will work. One night, as Susie, and Bob, or whoever else we’re pretending to be. Just a game, I tell myself. It’s only just a game.
Hunter reaches out, and casually takes my hand.
Heat blazes through me at his touch, an inferno. I trip on a pebble with the shock of it, and almost fall flat on my face.
“I got you,” Hunter laughs, pulling me up before I fall. His hand closes around mine, strong now: lacing his fingers with mine.
“Thanks,” I whisper. I can barely hear the crash of the waves over my heartbeat, and I glance over, wondering if he can hear it too.
Hunter catches my glance, and smiles at me: so full of golden confidence, it makes my pulse skitter with panic all over again.
What the hell are you doing, Brit? Once you do this, there’s no going back.
“So, Susie, tell me about yourself,” Hunter says, casual. “What brings you to Beachwood Bay?”
“I’m just passing through.” I tell him, conjuring up a different life for myself. “I’m… really from the city. My parents have a place there. I’m starting fashion school soon.”
“Oh yeah?” Hunter asks, like he hasn’t heard a thing about the infamous Ray family. “What do your folks do?”
“My mom’s a designer, too,” I lie, ignoring the sudden ache of sadness in my chest. “And my dad… he’s just a regular guy. He works in an office, but he’s always home for dinner at night.”
“Sounds nice,” Hunter takes a long breath. “My parents are pretty regular too. They’re teachers,” he adds. “We live in the middle of the suburbs, with a dog and a minivan.”
“What’s your dog’s name?” I ask.
“Hans Solo.”
I laugh. “You’re a Star Wars geek, huh?”“Yup.”
Hunter falls silent, and I realize for the first time that maybe this game isn’t just for me. I figured he was taking pity on me, giving me a way around my reputation here in Beachwood—a way to pretend I’m someone else—but seeing the wistful expression in his eyes when he talks about a regular old life in suburbia, I can see, this game isn’t just for me.
Hunter’s running from something too.
“But enough about everyone else,” I say brightly. “Tell me about you. Favorite ice cream flavor.”
“You know that.” Hunter gives me a sideways look. “I order it every time.”
“Chocolate fudge,” I laugh.
“And you like those milkshakes, with mint chocolate chip.” Hunter says.
I feel a thrill. “How do you know that?”
Hunter gives me a crooked grin. “I see things.”
“Like what?” My voice is casual, but I can barely breathe.
“Little things.” Hunter shrugs, looking embarrassed now. “Like, you always wear so much black, but your favorite color is purple. And you never keep your hair the same way for more than a week.”
“Oh.” My cheeks are flaming now, so hot they could light up the beach. He’s noticed me? He’s been watching, all summer long, the same way I’ve been watching him?
“I’m not stalking you, I promise,” Hunter adds in a strangled voice. “I just notice you. I can’t not.”
I want to look over at him, but I can’t. Suddenly, I’m painfully aware of the space between us, and the dark, empty beach. And the sound of his breath coming, steady and slow beside me.
Hunter Covington notices me.
I swallow a shaky breath, part relieved and part terrified to find we’re here, at the familiar cluster of rocks right on the far edge of the bay. “This way!” I yelp, my voice coming out too loud. I drop his hand and scramble on ahead, up the rough granite and over the crest of the small cliff. I don’t look back to see if Hunter’s following me.
Part of me wishes he wouldn’t.
I don’t know what made me falter, and cut out my bitchy act. My sarcasm was my only weapon against him and all his perfect, gorgeous charm. But it turns out even acting like a total psycho bitch wasn’t enough to shut him down.
And then he smiled at me.
God, never mind Helen of Troy and all those angry Greeks we learned about in school: that boy’s smile could start a war. So open and easy, with just a hint of danger gleaming in the slow burn of those blue eyes.
Nobody’s ever smiled at me like that.
Face it, Brit, I tell myself as I scramble ungracefully down the rocks. You were doomed the minute he swung a punch at that asshole, Craig. Riding up to the rescue like I was some damsel in distress and not the town slut... I was done for right then. And all of this? This is just me pretending like my heart didn’t flip over in my chest. Like his touch doesn’t make me tremble, and his smile doesn’t start a fire burning, hot and bright and hopeful behind my ribcage.
“What is this place?” Hunter’s voice comes from behind me, and I finally come to a stop. We’re in a secret hidden cove, sheltered from the winds by the outcroppings of rocks on either side, with a view clear out across the bay.
“It’s my place.” I tell him, feeling weirdly self-conscious. I could have taken him anywhere, but for some reason, I wanted him to see this: the place I come to, when it all gets too much. “Nobody knows about it, but I like it here. Everything’s so peaceful.”
I settle on my favorite rock, worn and smooth and still warm from the summer sun. Hunter sits beside me, and watches the lights shine, bright across the shadow of the dark shore.
“Just you and the ocean.” He says it quietly, and I feel something release in my chest. A tension, melting away. He understands.
I reach down and take a handful of sand, letting it filter slowly through my fingertips.
“So, Bob,” I say, stressing his fake name slightly, showing him I’m OK to play along. “What is it you want?”
He startles slightly. “What do you mean?”
I shrug. “Now, tonight, in life? What do you want?”
There’s silence for a moment. Hunter stares out at the ocean, and when he speaks, there’s a note of wry loss in his voice. “I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that. Everything I do, it’s like it’s all been planned out for me, and I’m just… walking in someone else’s footsteps.”
“You mean your brother?” I turn. I’ve seen them together, him and Jace. They seem close, nothing like my brothers Emerson and Ray Jay.
Hunter shakes his head. “No. Maybe,” he corrects himself. “But mainly it’s my parents, and their parents, and their parents…” He sighs, such a heavy breath I want to wrap my arms around him and take the weight for myself. I curl my fingers into my palms to keep from losing my mind and doing just that. “I’m lucky, I know.” he adds quickly. “I have so much opportunity, I just… I guess what I want is for someone to ask what I want, once in a while.”He finishes with a smile.
“Then I guess you got what you wanted tonight,” I tell him, glancing up.
I catch my breath. His gaze is fixed on mine, so clear and piercing, I swear, he can see right the way to my soul. “Not yet,” Hunter says softly, and then he lifts his hand and slowly reaches out to touch my face.
Gentle. It’s so gentle, the touch of his fingertips against my skin, that I shiver. My eyes fall shut, just so I can take it all in, the feel of him, feather-light, barely cupping my cheek.
Men don’t touch me like this. They grope, and slam, and grab at me, like my body is something rough and durable. I always felt a flash of victory at their man-handling, that I’d inspired a lust so strong it couldn’t be contained.
I know now I was wrong. Force isn’t the measure of desire. Hunter touches me like I’m delicate china, like I could break at any second, but there’s nothing delicate about the look in his eyes: blazing fire, stark with need.
I tremble under his touch. His thumb slides softly over the plump of my bottom lip, sending sparks shimmering in my bloodstream. I’m suspended, wanting so desperately to reach out and hold him for real, but terrified that my slightest movement might shatter this dream into nothing.
“What do you want?” Hunter’s voice is a low murmur as his gaze searches mine. He’s holding himself back, waiting for me. He echoes my question again, neither of us moving. “What is it you want tonight?”
I look at him, a golden angel in the moonlight, and it’s not even a question anymore. It’s certainty, as real and true as the ground beneath our feet and the waves crashing, steady on the shore.
“You,” I tell him, my voice shaking with an emotion I’ve never felt before. Something so pure and bright, it almost breaks my heart. “I want you.”
Hunter’s eyes widen with realization, but I don’t take it back. I don’t look away. I finally let myself reach up and touch him, stroking gently at the strand of golden hair fallen over his eyes. And then he’s leaning closer, closer, until his lips find mine in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever known.