HUNTER

I took the freight elevator up to the third-floor apartment and let myself in. George was in his office space, watching the video feed of the building and surrounding area. He was already packing up when I arrived at the desk, expecting that I'd be staying the night.

"I go downstairs and sleep," he said, nodding when he saw me.

"I hope the bed downstairs is comfortable enough for a sultan," I said. "I feel bad that you were forced out of this space. I initially intended it for you."

He shrugged and made a face. "I am old soldier. I am used to hard living. This is vacation compared to some places I have slept."

"Thanks," I said and clapped him on the back. "Is she asleep?"

George nodded. "She went right to bed, and I have heard no peeps out of her."

"I'll call you tomorrow when I need you."

Then he left me with Celia and I watched the video feed as he took the elevator and went to the first-floor apartment that had been hastily furnished for his use when I was at the apartment. It wasn't nearly as nice as the top floor, but as George said, it would do. We were both solders, and had slept in the worst places possible—on dusty back roads in Afghanistan and Iraq, beneath oily and greasy armored vehicles, in holes we’d dug in the ground.

A soft bed in a warehouse was like heaven in comparison.

I removed my shoes and walked as quietly as possible to the bed and watched Celia, wondering if she was awake or was really sleeping. Her breathing was slow and deep so I assumed she was truly asleep.

I left her there and went to the bathroom, stripping off my clothes for a shower. I needed to wash off the day's sweat and dust, and most of all to wash off the sick feeling I had from dealing with Spencer.

Then I went to the kitchen, with only a towel wrapped around my waist, and had a long drink of orange juice. I needed something stronger but didn't want to drink. I didn’t want to lose control. I'd have to be completely in control of myself if I was to successfully deal with Celia and her issues.

I grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and then switched off the extra lights, leaving only a single light on in George's office. Finally, I went to the bed where Celia was sleeping and stood in silence for a few moments, watching her, listening to her breathing to see if she was awake. She seemed to be sleeping so I slipped off my towel and slid under the covers and into the bed beside her. She didn't wake up, so I lay there quietly on my side facing her back, and tried to go to sleep.

Of course, lying naked in bed with her beside me had only one possible conclusion—a raging hard-on. I wanted to slip closer to her and pull her against me, wake her up for a nice long fuck, but that was my man-brain talking, and not my neo-cortex. She'd had a very bad day, week, and probably life since her father died and Spencer moved in. The last thing she needed was some horndog man pestering her when she really needed understanding and patience.

So I decided to let things wait until she came to me. I'd be patient. I knew she'd been through hell, with Graham's attack and everything that happened after. So, instead of trying to wake her up and arouse her enough that she'd want to have sex, I decided to try to sleep. I sighed, nestled down into the pillow, and tried to blank my mind of anything to do with Celia's delicious body—a body that I had come to know much more intimately over the past while, and instead thought about my next move with Spencer and with Victor and Sergi Romanov.

After what felt like an hour, I turned over and lay on my back, my erection having died a natural death after focusing on business rather than pleasure. I was almost asleep when Celia turned over, the sheets rustling. I kept my eyes closed and tried not to respond, but I heard her sharp intake of breath and knew she'd awoken to find me in bed beside her.

Now what would she do?

We lay there in silence for a moment, and I thought she might pretend to be asleep, probably hoping not to wake me.

Then to my surprise, she spoke, her soft voice almost a whisper. "Are you awake?"

I turned over to face her, but kept the space between us. I could barely see her face in the darkness, but could just make out the curve of her cheek, and a brief glint of light in her eyes.

"Yes," I said, keeping my voice low. "Sorry I woke you. I tried to be as quiet as I could."

"I hope you didn’t do anything rash."

I smiled. "Me? Do something rash? I'm insulted."

I caught her smile even in the dim room, and a surge of something went through me.

"I mean, rash like killing my bastard of a stepfather."

I shook my head. "No, I didn’t kill him, but I did give him a beating."

"Hunter!" she said, her voice shocked. "You beat him?" She rose up and turned on the light beside the bed. She looked deliciously seductive in the low light from the tiny lamp, her hair mussed, her eyes sleepy.

"He's fine. Maybe a broken nose, but nothing he didn’t deserve. I should have sent him to the hospital, considering everything he's done." I held out my hand, and saw that the knuckles were scraped pretty badly. "I think I injured myself in the bargain."

She reached out and took my hand, holding it up in front of her face. "Oh, God, Hunter…"

Then, she kissed my knuckles.

She actually kissed my injured hand.

She turned my hand over and kissed my palm and then looked in my eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" I replied, my throat constricting.

"For everything," she said. Then, she crawled over to my side of the bed and pushed me onto my back, lying on top of me, her mouth finding mine.

I didn’t fight.

Why would I fight the one thing I had wanted for most of the past five years?

Celia.

Her body on top of mine made me instantly hard as a rock. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tightly against me, grinding my hips up so she knew how much I wanted her.

How much I needed her.

We kissed, our mouths devouring each other, her fingers gripping my hair like she needed me desperately.

Then she sat up and pulled her nightgown off to reveal her beautiful curves, full and rounded breasts, her nipples hardening in the cool air. I couldn’t help but reach up and cup them with my hands, admiring their heavy fullness, my thumbs and fingers tweaking her nipples. I sat up and took one into my mouth, sucking firmly, the nub hardening against my tongue. In response, she moaned and arched her back, her eyes closing.

"Oh, God, I need you," she whispered. When I lay back, she leaned down and kissed me once more. "Fuck me, Hunter."

I didn't make her say please.

Instead, I did everything I could to please her. It should have been me begging her, because no matter how much I tried to deny it to myself, I wanted her. I'd always wanted her.

With every woman I'd been with since that first night with her, back before I joined the Marines, I'd compared them to Celia. None could measure up.

She needed me. She'd been through so much shit, with Graham being beat up, with the loan shark threats, the loss of her inheritance, and Spencer's abuse, she needed pleasure to blank her mind of all of it.

I was happy to provide her with it. I may not have been her first, or even twentieth, choice when it came to a lover, but I'd do.

I rolled her over onto her back and kissed her deeply, my hand roaming over her body, from one lush breast to her softly rounded hip, to the lips of her sex, which I parted with my fingers to find her hard little clit. She moaned into my mouth when I stroked it, opening her thighs to accommodate my hand. I pressed more deeply, pushing my fingers inside to stroke her and felt her body clench around me.

"So hot," I whispered in her ear. "So wet for me."

She pressed her hips up, hungry for sensation. I didn’t deny her.

I kissed a trail down her jaw to her collar bone and lower, claiming one nipple while I thumbed her clit, circling it slowly. I moved lower, licking my way down her belly to her pussy. I glanced up, enjoying the sight of her body arching with each stroke of her g-spot, her body trembling with lust.

"I'm going to eat you," I said, smiling as she gripped the sheets in her fists, pressing her hips up to meet my hand. "I'm going to make you come with my tongue."

She licked her lips but said nothing, her eyes closed, her focus entirely on my fingers. Then I licked her clit while I kept my fingers inside of her, stroking inside her with two fingers while I stroked her clit with my tongue.

"Oh, God," she gasped, and it wasn’t long before I felt her body clenching around my fingers as her orgasm began, her body shuddering. When she reached down and tried to pull my head away, I knew she'd had enough of my tongue and fingers.

I pulled away, letting her recover a bit.

Usually, I'd make her suck me for a while, warm me up even more, but this time, I didn’t. I was already harder than rock and dripping. I wouldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait.

"Are you safe?" I asked, because I didn't have a condom on me.

"Yes," she said. "I'm on the pill. Are you safe?"

I nodded. "I've been tested."

Then, I pushed inside of her silky wetness, the sensation so amazing, my eyes almost rolled back into my head.

"Oh, God, you're so wet, so tight," I said, unable to help myself. I stroked inside of her, pleasuring myself while I watched her body beneath me, her breasts jiggling in the most delicious way. Her eyes were half-lidded, her face flushed from her orgasm, and I thought at that moment that she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen.

I wanted to make her orgasm again, so as hard and ready as I was, I delayed, pulling out and stroking the head of my cock over her clit once more. She closed her eyes in response and I knew she could come again when she thrust up to meet me each time I did. I fucked her like that for a while, two or three thrusts inside of her, then two or three against her clit, and soon, she was focused once more, her body tensing.

"Come for me," I growled, my own orgasm nearing.

She met me thrust for thrust, her eyes open and focused on mine and then she did come, her eyes closing, her body tightening around my cock, her head thrown back.

"Oh, oh, oh…"

That did it for me and I rammed into her, pounding into her tightness as she clenched around me, the white-hot pleasure surging through my body as I ejaculated again and again…

I fell on top of her, breathing hard, my face pressed into her neck as I recovered.

"Fuck," I said, my cock still pulsing, the pleasure still intense. Then, I relaxed completely, my arms beside her face, watching her recover. I kissed her finally, my desire slaked for now, but I knew even at that moment that I'd want her again and again so I could watch her pleasure, feel her body clenching around my cock, her body shuddering in ecstasy…

So much for my plans to use her and make her serve my needs.

It took quite a while before Celia fell asleep. For the first hour, she tossed and turned, flipping first on her side facing me and then her back, with a pillow over her face, then to her side facing the room. Finally, she fell asleep facing the bathroom, her back to me. I could tell by the sound of her breathing, slow and even.

I took the opportunity to get up and go to the can and wash up. Being around her had its pleasures and frustrations, one of which was always being semi-hard at the prospect of fucking her. I decided I'd get George up to watch Celia while I went out for a run along the waterfront to burn off some of my excess energy.

I took out my cell after I finished washing up. “Come up and stay with her for a while,” I said, trying like hell to keep my voice low so I didn't wake her. “I need to go out and get some fresh air.”

“Be right up.”

I sat in George's small office space with my eyes closed, and waited, wondering what would happen now that Spencer knew I had dirt on him and could destroy his life if I chose. Would he come after me, threaten me, or try to get the evidence and destroy it? Would he run?

When George entered the apartment, I stood and stretched. Usually, sex made me sleepy, but tonight, after seeing what Spencer did to Celia, after punching him out, and after fucking her, I had too much energy.

George peered at me when he arrived. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I need to go for a run or I’ll never sleep.”

George stood beside the door while I tied my runners and shook his head. “I don’t like you going out by yourself.”

“I have to," I said and waved him off. "I’ll be fine. I’ll go out the back.”

I did, taking the exit next to the alley and then a parking lot on the other side of the street, walking around the building in the pitch black to the boardwalk. The wind had died down, and now, nearing midnight, I inhaled the moist cool air and started running.

After about fifteen minutes, I had to stop, my heart rate too high. I sat on a bench along the boardwalk, catching my breath, staring straight up at the clear sky overhead. A wind had picked up blew through the bare trees, the rustle of the few remaining leaves the only sound in the night. The city of Boston had over a half million people living within its boundaries, and the Greater Boston area was home to over four million. There was enough ambient light even here along the bay so that the stars were dim.

I picked out the location of a star Celia had shown me that night more than five years earlier. I still remembered it, and almost everything from that night and the nights after, before she told me thanks but she'd found someone better. Graham had told me that she thought I wasn't in her league despite my family's wealth. That she would prefer someone not embroiled in organized crime, considering the fact she wanted to go into criminal law and be a prosecutor like her father before her. That Spencer had bought her off, ensuring she didn’t have to work if she never saw me again. She chose Grey and she chose money over me.

I breathed in deeply, trying not to think of that. Even now, even after everything, it still hurt.

My pulse had slowed considerably and now I just sat there, shivering despite the heat from my run. I thought that if she came to me, wanted me, asked me to fuck her, I'd be satisfied. I thought I’d feel like I had won something—validation.

I didn’t.

I covered my eyes. God, I wanted her.