I will take him from you.
My eyes popped open, but otherwise, I didn’t move. I lay stiffly, staring at the nightstand as my heart pounded and Everett’s threat echoed in my mind. The clarity of his voice terrified me more than his words. It was like he’d been standing right above me, bending to speak in my ear, instead of just an imaginary figment of a dream.
I stayed still for minutes trying to block out his voice, and when the shock of the nightmare slowly passed, I flipped off my covers and sat up on the edge of my bed. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths and listened to the silence in the room.
Everett is dead.
I killed him and he will never, ever take my son.
It was just a dream.
When my heart rate was back to normal, I stood up and rubbed my hands over my face. “Well . . . that was new,” I muttered to my dark room. Between my flashes when I was awake and Everett’s voice now visiting my sleep, I really was losing my mind.
Reaching for my phone, I unplugged it and checked the time: 1:46 a.m.
There was no way I’d get back to sleep, not after that dream, which meant I was going to be exhausted tomorrow.
I opened the locked screen and saw that I had two new Facebook notifications and one missed call alert three hours ago from Unknown. I frowned and cleared the red dot on my phone app.
I’d been getting Unknown’s phone calls at least once a day ever since the first call, and I’d become an expert at declining calls before they rang more than once.
Whatever. This flipping reporter could call all she wanted because I wasn’t giving in.
Plugging my phone back in, I went to my closet for a sweater to pull over my tank top and sleep shorts. Then I went to the kitchen, flicking on lights as I went to make a pot of coffee. With a steaming mug in hand, I stood in the living room and assessed my loft.
Sleepless nights meant remodeling, but with my motel projects done, I could finally start on my own home. The ideas I’d been sketching and dreaming about for years were going to come to life.
And Coby’s room was up first.
Mom and Dad had requested a grandson sleepover after Mom’s Wednesday-night dinner so Coby was at their house tonight. It had been two weeks since Beau and Sabrina’s wedding and now that the craziness was over, they wanted some quality time with Coby. Pickle was there too so he could start his puppy training with Dad first thing in the morning.
With the loft to myself and some hustle, I could have Coby’s room tarped and the ceiling painted before I needed to get to work. Then tomorrow, I could juggle my schedule a bit to paint the walls while he was at daycare.
He was going to be so excited. I couldn’t wait to see Coby’s face when he came home to blue walls, and just thinking about his smile gave me one.
Coby’s room was going to have an antique car theme. Because Dad loved antique cars, he’d turned Coby on to them too. My son wanted nothing more than to be like his gramps and the two of them had been collecting old license plates lately. I’d been stashing them in my closet to hang on the walls as decorations. Those, along with the bunk bed Beau was going to build Coby, would make this place my son’s little sanctuary. He’d have steps in lieu of a ladder to his bed and a play space underneath the bed with shelves for his books and toys.
It was going to be awesome, and the prospect of diving in gave me a second wind. Who needed sleep? Not this girl. She was going to paint.
Slugging back more coffee, I set down my cup and went downstairs to my office for supplies. Since Hunter was staying in the housekeeper’s room, my office had now become my renovation supply closet.
With drop cloths, rollers and ceiling paint in hand, I carted it all upstairs. Then I came back down for my ladder. Coby’s bed and dresser got pushed to the middle of the room. His toy baskets and beanbag chair got tossed on top of the pile. Then I covered the heap in plastic.
I went back to the kitchen and swallowed a few big gulps of my cold coffee before propping open the outside door and opening all the windows. Stripping off my sweater, I went back to Coby’s room and filled my paint tray. I set the ladder up as close to the middle of the room as I could manage and climbed up. Balancing the paint tray in one hand and my coated roller in the other, I let the back and forth motion soothe my stresses away.
Painting had become my favorite coping mechanism.
I’d thrown myself so completely into fixing up this building it had allowed me to bury my troubles. How was I going to deal with the flashes, strange dreams and sleepless nights when my renovation projects were done? Once the loft was remodeled, I’d be out of wall space to recolor.
I needed to find a new distraction.
Maybe I’d take up reading. All my friends were avid readers—Sabrina was even an author—but I’d never had a passion for the pastime. The idea was appealing though. I could escape Everett by disappearing into a book.
I’d be willing to give it a shot, but thankfully right now, I still had my painting.
I coated my roller again and stepped up another rung on the ladder so I could stretch and hit the space above Coby’s tarped bed. I was extended to the near-tipping point when a deep voice filled the room.
“What are you doing?” Hunter boomed.
“Ahh!” I screamed as my muscles jerked violently. The sudden movement caused my ladder to rock onto two legs and tip to the side, sending me flailing backward with my paint tray and roller still in hand. But before I could crash onto the floor, Hunter caught me at the waist.
He also caught my paint.
My tray flew up, tilting in slow motion as it turned over and coated us both in sticky white.
“Fuck,” Hunter cursed as he steadied me.
My heart still racing, I spun around and pointed the roller toward his face, sending paint splatters everywhere. “You scared me! Again! What are you even doing here?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m up here making sure you’re okay. I heard a bunch of noise from my room. Remember? The one right down there?” He pointed to the floor. “Then I came up here and found your door wide open. What the hell? Anyone could have come in here. You keep that shit locked at night, Maisy. I don’t give a fuck if you’re painting. The door stays closed!”
“Oh, no you don’t! You don’t get to be mad at me. This is all on you.” I used my roller to wildly showcase the disaster that was our mess. “Quit. Scaring. Me!”
We glared at each other while our chests puffed up and down. Slowly, the scowl on Hunter’s handsome face turned up into a grin. The white of his teeth matched the paint all over his chest. I was still glaring up at him when he looked down at his ruined shirt, shook his head, then roared with laughter.
Hunter’s unfettered laugh in his smooth tenor voice sent tingles rippling across my skin. His Adam’s apple was more pronounced when he laughed. And sexy. Damn sexy. I was just as obsessed with getting my tongue on that bump as ever.
I couldn’t hold my glare with his gorgeous smile so close. Giggles bubbled in my chest, and within seconds, I was laughing hysterically too. The sound of our combined laughter filled my loft, echoing off the walls in Coby’s tiny room.
I was laughing so hard, the roller slipped out of my hand and crashed onto my bare toes, only making me laugh harder. For the first time in months, I laughed like I didn’t have a worry in the world, just like Coby did when I tickled him.
I laughed like a happy woman.
A happy woman covered in paint.
Finally getting myself under control, I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Is it your life’s goal to scare me to death?”
“No.” He used his thumb to wipe a paint drop off my cheek. “My life’s goal is to keep that smile on your face.”
I opened my mouth but closed it before speaking.
Heavens above.
He hadn’t even kissed me yet but I was totally falling for this man. I was falling for the way he made me feel precious. For how he saw the best in me, especially when I didn’t see it myself. For how beautiful I felt when he was around, even in bed hair and wrinkled old pajamas and paint.
“You’re blushing, Blondie,” he whispered and stepped closer.
My breath hitched and the flush in my cheeks got hotter. My chin tipped up so I could keep a hold of his eyes. The brown was darker tonight, not their normal caramel, but more like milk chocolate. Even in the dim light, I could see the flecks of cinnamon near their centers.
“How determined are you to finish this painting tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t, um . . . huh?”
His hand came up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I really want to kiss you but it’s going to take a while. If you’re set on painting, then we’ll do that instead.”
I swallowed hard. “Kiss.”
The second the word left my mouth, his came crashing down. The soft heat from his lips melted mine open so his tongue could sweep inside. Hunter’s arms wrapped around my back, pulling me tight and the paint on our clothes glued us together. Fisting the material of his T-shirt on his back, I held on as he plundered my mouth.
His tongue worked so smoothly against mine, stroking and exploring, that when he nipped my bottom lip, I gasped. Hunter grinned against my lips, then did it again, this time sending a pulse right to my center. We kissed for what felt like hours, standing locked together, until the paint on my fingers started to crack. When we finally broke apart, my lips were wonderfully swollen and I was desperate to fill my lungs with air.
“Hunter,” I moaned on an inhale as his kisses trailed across my cheek and over to my ear.
“What do you want, Maisy?” His question was hoarse and rough, the vibration just making the ache in my core even stronger.
“You. I want you.” I dropped his shirt in my hands and trailed my palms down to his firm ass, giving it a hard squeeze.
He growled in my ear, pressing his erection against my hip, then bit the sensitive spot behind the hinge of my jaw. The sting made the throbbing between my legs nearly unbearable.
My hands left his ass and came to the hem of my sticky tank. I leaned back to yank it up my torso but Hunter’s hands came down on mine. “Let me.”
I dropped the sticky cotton and let him take the hem. With one fast tug, I was naked from the waist up. My nipples were already pebbled from our kiss, but the cool air drifting in from the windows made them prickle. Hunter’s large hands cupped both of my breasts, squeezing the soft, small curves as he dragged his thumbs across my nipples.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered.
I obeyed, shuddering as he kept at my breasts. With every squeeze, every tug, every roll, the throbbing at my core intensified until I was dizzy. When one of his hands ran down my stomach and into the waistband of my shorts, I knew he’d find me wet.
His fingers slipped between my folds, circling my entrance and bringing the wetness up to my clit. When he gave my bud two flicks, I nearly collapsed. Hunter’s other arm abandoned my breast and banded around my back, holding me up as his long and talented middle finger continued dipping in and out.
My head fell back, my neck limp, when his mouth closed over my nipple. “Hunter,” I gasped. His teeth nipped, then sucked hard and my pussy clenched once around his finger. I felt his smile on my skin before he slid two fingers inside and hooked them to hit the right spot.
“Oh my god.” My legs gave out completely and his mouth broke away from my nipple so he could stand tall and keep me from falling into the paint-covered plastic.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
I forced my eyes open and found my feet. “Bed. Let’s go to my bed.”
He nodded, and when his fingers slipped out of me, I squeaked. A grin spread over Hunter’s face before he took a step back. Reaching behind his neck, he yanked his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.
At the sight of his bare chest, my mouth fell open.
Clothes did not do his body justice. Not even close. His broad shoulders were wrapped in sinewy muscle. His abs and narrow hipbones formed that perfect V. His washboard stomach was so defined I could run my paint roller over the top and miss all the grooves that separated the squares.
“Your feet are soaked,” he said.
“What?” I blinked, breaking eye contact with Hunter’s chest to look down. White paint was pooling between my toes from the roller I’d dropped on them earlier.
Before I could bend down to wipe them off, Hunter dropped to his knees. Using his own gray T-shirt, he carefully cleaned my feet. When they were no longer coated, just lightly smeared with white, he looked up.
I was a goner.
Those eyes. That soft and loving look behind his dark lashes. I was totally flipping gone for this man.
My palms took his face. My fingertips combed through his short beard. My hands traveled up his cheeks into his hair. With one tender pull, I took out the elastic tie and smiled as his wavy locks fell to just past his shoulders. Threading my fingers close to his scalp, I combed his soft tresses, tugging hard enough for his eyes to flare.
I only got that one pass through his hair before Hunter stood, planting his shoulder in my belly and picking me up in a fireman’s hold.
“Hunter!” I giggled as he carried me across the hall to my bedroom. With one toss, I was on my back in the center of my strewn sheets. I pushed up on my elbows as Hunter stripped off his jeans, then the white boxer briefs beneath.
Entering the bed on his knees, he planted a hand on my sternum and pushed me back. His hands came right to my shorts, roughly dragging them down my legs and tossing them to the floor. Tracing the skin on my calves, he trailed his gentle hands up to my inner thighs.
He was torturing me. Rubbing up and down, back and forth on the inside of my legs but never getting close to my throbbing core. By the fifth pass, I started writhing on the bed.
“Hunter. More.”
His hands froze, his eyes locked on mine as he roughly grabbed my knees and thrust them apart. I nearly came undone. He spread me wide, making room for his hips, and slowly came down on top.
“Eyes on me, baby.”
I nodded as my breath came in labored gulps.
“Watch us together.” His hips pressed into mine and he ground his erection right into my clit, making my hips buck.
“Condom?” he asked.
My heart sank as the air rushed from my lungs. I didn’t have condoms.
Wait. Yes, I did!
I’d found an unopened box of condoms in a guest room last year and I’d stashed them in my nightstand. I’d kept them, wishfully thinking that one of my blind dates would pan out and I’d need them.
Thank god. If that guest ever came back, he’d get his room at a discount.
“There’s a box in my drawer,” I breathed, grinning at Hunter’s handsome face.
He grinned back before leaning over and rifling through the nightstand, ripping open the box. Using his teeth, he tore open the foil packet and rolled on the condom before coming back down on top of me.
Hunter’s grin got bigger as he reached between us. With his thick cock fisted in his hand, he worked it up and down my slit. A shudder rolled down my spine with every stroke. My eyelids were heavy but I fought to keep them open so I could watch us together, like he’d instructed.
“I’m going to fuck you now, baby. I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to say my name when you come.” Hunter’s dirty words made my pussy clench again. “Ready?”
I nodded and tensed, waiting for him to push inside. I never enjoyed this part—a man’s first thrust. It would always get better but not until the painful stretch at the beginning had burned away.
Our eyes were locked and his hand was still working his cock between us, but he wasn’t coming inside. What was taking him so long? I lifted my hips, hoping it would move him along, but he pulled back his hips from mine.
“Take a breath, Maisy.”
I did, in and out with a quick puff.
His eyes narrowed. “Take a deep breath this time.”
I obeyed again, filling my lungs so completely my chest rose and brushed against his.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as I exhaled. “Do you want to stop?”
I shook my head. “No. It just, um, hurts at the beginning.”
His eyes softened as his lips dropped to mine. “Not this time.”
Then he kissed me, slow and wet. His tongue worked so smoothly against mine, I closed my eyes and just let him take over. So lost in his kiss, I didn’t have the chance to tense or brace before his cock slid slowly inside, filling me completely. The stretch was still there but it didn’t hurt. It was . . . incredible.
“Fuck, you feel good,” Hunter groaned, breaking apart from my lips to hover above me.
I hummed my agreement and kept my eyes locked with his as he moved. He pulled out his cock, leaving just the tip inside, then pushed back in with a measured stroke. He did it three more times before he did exactly what he’d promised. He fucked me until every one of my muscles was trembling and his name was the only thing on my mind.
My orgasm built fast and right before I came, Hunter’s thrusts got harder. “I’m—” I couldn’t finish my sentence, the buildup was too powerful.
“My name. You say my name, baby.”
He didn’t even need to ask. When my climax broke, I cried out his name as my neck arched into the pillow. Fisting the bedsheet, I rode out my pulsing orgasm as it hit me with wave after wave of heat.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he grit out as his strokes got even faster.
After the longest and most intense orgasm of my life, I opened my eyes and found Hunter’s, wanting to see what he looked like when he came. When his legs started shaking and the cords in his neck bunched tight, I refused to blink. My hands slid up his arms braced at my sides, dipping into the contours as they traveled, and then into his hair. I pinned it back with a tight fist so it wouldn’t get in the way of my view.
And what a view.
When I tugged his hair, Hunter’s jaw clamped shut and he came with a rich moan from deep within his chest. It was magnificent. Planting himself deep, Hunter collapsed onto my chest. Then he slid his hands under my back and held me tight. My hands untangled from his hair and traced patterns on his back.
Heavens above. Did that just happen? I stared up at my ceiling, replaying everything until it all sank in. Hunter and I had just had totally freaking awesome sex.
How had I gotten so lucky that this man had walked into my motel?
I didn’t have an answer but I was grateful regardless.
With Hunter’s hair free from my grasp, it draped around our faces as we relaxed. The smell was so clean and familiar that I took a few deep breaths trying to place it. It wasn’t the complimentary shampoo and conditioner I left in the rooms. I knew from cleaning that he’d been using those when he was in room eight. No, this was different. It was a smell I remembered from my high-school days.
“Herbal Essences?”
Hunter chuckled and lifted up. “I give you an incredible orgasm and the first thing you ask is my brand of shampoo?”
I smiled. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
He answered with a wink.
Then he kissed me softly and sweetly with light brushes of his lips. Sliding out, he stood to his full naked glory and held out a hand to help me off the bed.
“Come on.” Pulling me behind him with our fingers threaded, we went to my bathroom to shower off the sex and paint. When we were clean, we came back to my bedroom for clothes.
“Do you need to paint or do you want to try and get some sleep?” Hunter asked, pulling on his briefs.
Sleep. Except I couldn’t leave Coby’s room like it was. “I need to paint.”
Standing at my closet with my back to him, I stepped into clean panties and tugged on an old tank top. Then, nervous to face him, I spoke to my hanging clothes. “Don’t, um, feel like you have to stay. It’s late and I’m sure you’re tired. I can handle painting on my own and I’m sure you want to sleep in your own bed.”
I held my breath, waiting for his response. I desperately wanted him to stay, to prove that he wasn’t like the photographer that had screwed me, then run away, but if Hunter wanted to leave, I wouldn’t be upset. It was late, after all.
I will not be upset.
His footsteps came my way and then he wrapped me in his arms. “I know we just started but I’m all in, Maisy. I’m serious about you. And serious means I’m helping you paint your son’s ceiling. It means, when we’re done, we’re going to sleep together in your bed. And serious also means that, at some point, I want you to feel comfortable introducing me to Coby as the man that sleeps in your bed every night.”
Lucky. I was a lucky girl.
“I’m all in too.”
“Good.” He hugged me tighter and pressed his lips to my neck.
Then he let me go and we painted Coby’s ceiling in our underwear.