CHAPTER SEVEN
Kelsey couldn’t sleep. She’d been tossing and turning for the last two hours, but every time she closed her eyes, she was right back in that pitch-black darkness, surrounded by all that debris, unable to get out.
Throwing back the covers, she breathed deep and stared up at the ceiling in Hunt’s guest room as she fought the panic trying to squeeze the air out of her lungs. She’d left the bathroom light on and the door separating the two rooms open to remind herself she wasn’t in that nightmare any longer, but even that wasn’t helping. It was too quiet in this building. The walls were obviously some high-tech variety that blocked out city noise. If she could just hear something other than her rapid pulse and erratic breaths, maybe she could get some damn sleep. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like she was about to hyperventilate.
Unable to stand the silence a moment longer, she pushed out of bed and crossed the floor. The living room was dark and quiet, but there was enough city light coming in through the wide windows to illuminate the room. Enough to see that Hunt had left his bedroom door open wide. Enough for her to spot the end of his bed and his bare feet on top of the comforter.
Her heartbeat quickened. She bit her lip, knowing she needed to go back to her room. But she couldn’t seem to look away from his feet.
Normally, she liked being alone. After the ugliness of her marriage, she’d valued her independence and solitude. But tonight that solitude was driving her mad, and she was afraid if she spent one more minute by herself, she might just scream.
Before she could change her mind, she crossed the living room and stepped into his room.
He hadn’t closed his curtains. Light from the street spilled into the room from windows on both sides of his wide bed, illuminating his room. It was bigger than hers, all dark woods, sleek lines, and gray fabrics, but her focus was on him. On his strong body reclined on top of the comforter, his legs covered by the low-riding, faded Levis he’d had on earlier, one hand resting on his muscular chest, his other hand on the mattress at his side while he slept.
Her gaze drifted to his face. To the dusting of dark stubble covering his square jaw. The skin around his eyes was smooth, showing none of the stress of their earlier day, his mouth barely open as he breathed. She knew she was invading his space. Knew if he woke and saw her, she’d look like a creepy stalker. But she didn’t want to leave because the simple sound of his steady breath eased the tightness in her chest. Made her muscles unlock one by one. Reaffirmed that she wasn’t really alone after all.
Warmth prickled her skin. A warmth that told her she was absolutely alive and aching as she stood still in the darkness. She wanted to slide onto that bed next to him. Wanted to feel his arm wrap around her and hold her close just as he’d held her when they’d watched that movie on the couch. Wanted to let his strength and body heat melt the last bits of ice inside her.
That ache was so strong, so insistent, she knew if she didn’t get out of his room right this second, she was going to forget all the reasons she wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Pathetic,” she whispered to herself, turning away and moving back toward his open door as quietly as she could. She wasn’t alone in this apartment as her stupid brain was trying to make her believe. She wasn’t back in that rubble. She was a strong, independent woman who didn’t want or need a man to take care of her, so why was she acting like such a basket case tonight?
“Kels?”
The sleepy sound of his voice stopped her feet.
Fabric rustled at her back. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Shit. Her eyes slid closed, and she cursed herself for being so completely pitiful. People had died today. She should be thanking her lucky stars she was alive. Instead, she was a gigantic mess she just bet he regretted having in his house.
“I-I’m fine.” She turned just enough so he could see her profile in the dim light, but not enough so she had to meet his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong. I thought I heard something.” She cringed because that sounded completely ridiculous and quickly swiveled back toward the door. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked before she could even take a step. “Because I am.”
Her pulse picked up speed. She told herself to go back to her own room. Right now. Knew better than to glance back at him. But couldn’t seem to stop herself.
He’d pushed himself up on the bed so he was leaning back on his hands, looking relaxed, but his gaze was locked on her. His sleepy, sexy, way-too-tender gaze that made her pulse skip a beat.
“Y-you were sound asleep a second ago.”
“Not sleeping. Just dozing. Pretty sure I haven’t slept yet tonight. You haven’t either by the looks of you.”
Nerves rolled through her belly. “No, I, uh . . . it’s too quiet.”
“I know. That’s usually not a problem for me, but tonight it is. Come here.”
For a moment, she was sure she’d heard him wrong. Then he held out a hand to her, and she realized she hadn’t.
A little voice in the back of her head screamed it was way past time to get back in her own room, but she didn’t move. Couldn’t, because the draw toward him was too strong.
He sat upright. “You were able to sleep on the couch next to me earlier. Maybe all you need is just someone else in the room so your brain knows you’re not alone and it can finally slow down.” He raked a hand through his hair. “God knows, after the day we both had, I’m pretty sure I could use that too.”
He was trying to make her feel better. She was pretty sure he had no problem being alone tonight or any night. But the tender offer touched her, and before she could stop herself, she was moving toward the bed, then stretching out on the soft mattress beside him.
She was careful not to get too close, to stay on her side. But as soon as she lay down she instantly regretted the fact she’d taken off those baggy sweatpants he’d given her. The fact she was wearing nothing but his oversize T-shirt hit her like a bullet to the brain.
She tugged the hem as low across her thighs as she could. And was relieved when he grabbed the throw from the end of the bed and spread it over her.
“Thanks,” she whispered, pulling it up to her chest.
“If you’re cold you can climb under the covers.” He lay back down on his side and tucked an arm behind his head on the pillow. But he didn’t try to share her blanket, which, considering how weird she was acting, was probably good.
“No. This is fine. You’re not cold?”
“No. Hot-blooded.”
Yes, he was. And way too damn sexy for his own good.
Not wanting to think about that too much, she closed her eyes and tipped her face toward the ceiling, listening to the ebb and flow of his breaths, hoping it would lull her into sleep.
Long minutes passed. His steady breaths didn’t do a thing to relax her. All they did was make her skin tingle with the urge to touch him.
Do not give in to that urge.
Silence stretched between them. She forced herself to lie still. Counted sheep. Listened to the whir of the ceiling fan turning slowly above. Tried everything she could think of, but nothing worked. Hoping maybe a change in position would help, she carefully rolled away from him.
The bed dipped. Something warm slid across her hipbone. Then heat pressed against her spine, her buttocks, all the way down the backs of her thighs, causing her whole body to tense.
“Close your eyes, Kels,” Hunt whispered into her hair.
Oh dear God . . . that felt good. Too damn good for words.
He smoothed her hair up and over the pillow so it wouldn’t tickle his face, then wrapped his arm around her belly and tugged her tighter to his chest. “You’re safe right here with me. Close your eyes and relax. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you.”
His body heat penetrated her skin and eased the tension in her muscles. And for the first time in hours—maybe even days and months—all the stress and worry and fear uncoiled inside her.
Screw the consequences and whether or not this made her weak. She liked this. Tonight, she needed it. And for the moment, she planned to savor every moment.
She savored him because she knew tomorrow everything would be different.
Hunt never did fall completely asleep. He was hyperaware of every sound Kelsey made and every twitch of her body.
He’d moved back to his side of the bed not long after she’d fallen asleep, knowing touching her like that was a really bad idea. He shouldn’t have invited her to sleep in his bed. Should have sent her back to her room the minute he’d seen her. But he hadn’t been able to. Not just because that quiver in her voice had hit him like a punch to the gut, but because the lost look he’d seen in her eyes had completely upended his resolve to keep his distance.
She was a contradiction of behaviors and reactions. Independent one minute, vulnerable the next, feisty when she dealt with her brothers, then nervous and unsure as soon as the lights were out. He knew a lot of that was because of the trauma she’d experienced today, but as he lay beside her in the dark and thought back over every interaction he’d had with her over the years, he realized the odd shift in her moods had been going on a lot longer than just today. She’d been unpredictable for a while now. And her reactions had only become more unpredictable the longer she’d been married to Benedict.
He glanced sideways at her, still asleep on her side, her blonde hair splayed over the pillow, her slim body looking small and defenseless in his big bed. Callahan had said Benedict hadn’t hit her, at least not that she’d admitted. But Hunt knew there were a lot of ways a man could abuse a woman that didn’t involve his fists.
A slow rage burned through him. If he found out Benedict had anything to do with that bomb, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from inflicting serious bodily harm. And if the man made any kind of move to go after Kelsey again . . .
“No,” Kelsey mumbled. “No, can’t.”
Hunt pushed up on his arm to make sure she was all right. She didn’t move. Didn’t make any indication she was awake. As her breaths evened out, he carefully lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, knowing she was just dreaming.
Okay, enough thinking. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on nothing. If he fell asleep right now he could get two hours in before dawn.
“No.” Kelsey jerked, the movement shaking the bed. Rolling to her back, she kicked the throw blanket off her legs. “No. Let me go. Let me out. I don’t want to be alone.”
Hunt’s eyes shot open. Hers were still tightly closed, but the way she thrashed brought him fully awake. And the haunted sound of her voice made him desperate to comfort her from whatever nightmare was tormenting her.
He scooted across the bed toward to her, careful not to startle her. He’d lived through enough of his dad’s nightmares to know the worst thing he could do was shock her awake. Bracing his elbow on his pillow, he grazed his fingertips against her arm and kept his voice gentle when he said, “You’re okay, Kels. You’re safe. You’re right here with me in my apartment, remember?”
Her arms and legs slowed their flailing, and she tipped her head his way. But she didn’t open her eyes. Didn’t speak. Just breathed in and out until the tension unwound from her muscles.
“That’s better.” He continued to trail his fingertips over her arm, her shoulder, up her neck, and through her hair. “See? Nothing to worry about. Just you and me here together.”
Man, her hair was soft. Like satin. He slid his fingers through the long locks again and again, knowing he should stop now that she was drifting back to sleep but not able to let go of her just yet. Her warm breath tickled his lips, torturing him in a new and anguishing way, but he still didn’t move away from her. He looked from her lips to her throat, to the tiny birthmark on her collarbone, visible where the neck of his too-big T-shirt fell open over her silky-smooth shoulder.
“Hunt?”
Her quiet voice caught him off guard. He looked up to find her sweet brown eyes open and focused on him. Only these eyes weren’t filled with fear or shock or confusion as he expected. They brimmed with heat. A heat that pushed him right to the edge of control.
Everything inside him stilled. He knew he needed to move away. Knew he was dangerously close to taking something she wouldn’t be offering on any normal day. But still couldn’t make his muscles work.
Her gaze slid from his eyes to his lips. And then she pressed her hand to his chest, and, holy God, the silky touch of her fingertips against his bare skin was like absolute heaven.
He closed his eyes. Breathed in and out as her fingertips slid over his skin. Tried like hell not to react in case she was still half asleep. And completely lost the fight when her lips brushed his collarbone.
Desire overtook logic. He sifted his fingers into her hair and lifted her face toward his. And then he kissed her the way he’d been dreaming of kissing her. The way he knew he shouldn’t be kissing her. The way that lit up his body and made him want to kiss every inch of her until they were both sweaty and sated and limp.
She opened at the first touch, drawing his tongue into the soft, wet intoxicating heat of her mouth. Fire licked like flames across his skin as her hand captured his shoulder, as her tongue stroked his with frantic movements, as she groaned and pulled him toward her.
He pushed her to her back as he explored her tongue, lips, and teeth, kissing her deeper with each pass, desperate for more. She shifted her fingers up into his hair and nipped at his bottom lip, then groaned and sucked his tongue back into her mouth, just as frantic and hot and needy as him. And as she pulled him on top of her, and he felt the swell of her supple breasts and her nipples hardening against his chest, every ounce of blood in his body shot straight into his groin, making him ache for more, for as much as she’d give him.
He trailed his fingers down her throat and over her shoulder as he kissed her, then lower to her ribs, loving the way her nails dug into his flesh and the sexy sounds she made. Desperate to feel more of her, he shifted his palm to her front and closed his hand around her breast and the soft cotton of his T-shirt. She sucked in a breath but didn’t push him away. And then she was kissing him harder and arching her back, offering more, making him high with the need to touch her bare skin, to take her nipple into his mouth, to make her moan in pure ecstasy.
She groaned long and deep as he squeezed the supple mound. Did it again when he moved to her other breast and slid his fingertip over her nipple, circling the tip until it formed a taut bud. God, she was responsive. Bracing one arm on the pillow near her head, he slid the other down her ribs and over her hip to the hem of her T-shirt resting against her silky-soft thigh.
A buzzing sounded in his head. A buzzing that told him he was dangerously close to forgetting every one of the reasons this was wrong. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt right as hell. She felt fucking right. And she wasn’t making any move to stop him.
Her fingertips grazed his ribs, sending a shiver over his skin. She nipped at his bottom lip, then sucked it between her teeth before groaning and sliding her tongue back between his lips. Blood pounded in his groin as he tugged the T-shirt up her leg and kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, as he tilted her head back with the hand near her head so he could trail a line of kisses down her throat.
“Hunter.”
God, he loved the way she said his name. He nipped at her throat, then drew the delicate skin between his lips and sucked. Her fingertips curled against his sides, then dropped to the waistband of his jeans. He tugged the shirt higher, grazing his knuckles across the sensitive area where her leg met her torso as he found another delectable spot to lick and suck and kiss, groaning himself when she trembled and flexed her hips, telling him just how much she liked his touch.
Another buzz sounded in his head. Followed by, “Hunter, answer me.”
Kelsey’s hands stilled an inch from finding out just how turned on he really was. And confused about why she sounded irritated rather than turned on like he knew she was, he lifted his head a fraction of an inch and said, “Answer what, baby?”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything.”
“You told me to answer you.”
“No, I didn’t. You’re hearing things.” Lifting her head, she pressed her lips against his throat, then nipped and licked and sucked just as he’d done to her. “Kiss me already, Hunter.”
He groaned and turned his head, capturing her lips and kissing her the way she wanted. The way he wanted. The way that made him abso-fucking-lutely on fire.
She groaned into his mouth and slid her hand down the front of his jeans, right over his straining erection.
Sparks shot off behind his eyes. But before she could find the snap on his jeans, that damn buzzing sounded again. And this time it didn’t stop.
Kelsey jerked back from his mouth and looked toward the open bedroom door. “What is that noise?”
The sound finally registered, bringing Hunt’s head up. “My downstairs intercom. Shit. Someone’s here.”
He didn’t want to let go of her, but he forced himself to push off all her succulent heat.
“It’s like four in the morning.” She tugged the T-shirt down her legs and reached for the throw hanging halfway off the bed. “Who would be visiting you now?”
“I don’t know.” He climbed off the bed and ran a hand through his hair. It could be Callahan. Or the Feds. Or even her family.
Shit. He seriously hoped it wasn’t her family.
“Stay here. I’ll see who it is and get rid of them.”
Just the thought her brothers could have found a red-eye and were home nearly killed his arousal, at least enough so he could walk. But he’d only given the building’s access code to a handful of people, Alec being one of them, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who could get into the lobby. He was confident Alec couldn’t get up to his apartment to surprise them—he needed a key for that—but once inside the lobby Alec could buzz the hell out of Hunt to get his attention, which his visitor was clearly doing.
Son of a bitch.
Tugging the bedroom door closed behind him, he swiped a hand down his face, trying not to look like a guilty fucking friend as he crossed his dark living room and headed toward the security panel near the door. The buzzer sounded again, this time in several short, rhythmic bursts, telling him whoever was pressing the damn thing was irritated beyond belief that he hadn’t yet responded. His gaze zeroed in on the screen—from farther back he could only make out a shape moving around downstairs in the lobby. Then the person turned and faced the camera just as her voice echoed through his living room.
“Dammit, Hunt. I drove all the way down here from Seattle. Let me in already.”
Oh fuck. Genevieve.
His adrenaline surged as he sprinted to turn the volume down before Kelsey heard her. Way too late he remembered he’d given Gen the lobby access code months ago when she’d come by on one of her layovers. He hadn’t been stupid enough to give her access to his apartment, but he hadn’t wanted her standing out in the rain until he got home.
“Hunt—”
He hit the button to respond, killing her voice in the room. “Hold on. Stop hitting the damn button. I’ll be right down.”
Her irritated expression flashed on the screen, but he reached up to turn the screen off, not really caring about her reaction. All he wanted was to get rid of her before Kelsey spotted her.
“Who’s that?”
He jerked around at the sound of Kelsey’s voice behind him. “No one. Just someone who’s lost.”
“At four in the morning?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed his keys from the counter and hit the elevator button. “I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. Didn’t draw a full breath until the elevator doors closed behind him. His entire focus was on the shitstorm currently swirling around him.
A shitstorm he had no one to blame for but himself.