Chapter 12

Kelly

You stupid, stupid girl. You stupid, idiot girl. What did you expect?

As I sat there, leaning against the wall, still wet from sweat and sex, I could feel tears streaming down my face. I felt completely exposed and totally vulnerable. In disbelief, but at the same time fully aware that this was exactly what was always going to happen. He wasn’t special, he wasn’t different. He was just another pig looking to get his. Maybe he was something worse. Or better. I didn’t know. I was left there wondering more than ever, who and what Hunter was, and what exactly it was that he wanted with me.

Why did I always screw up with men? Why was I so stupid?

All I wanted was what every girl wants. I wanted what Elle had gotten with Forrester when he’d appeared in the diner. I’d wanted someone to come into my life who would care about me, who would commit to me, who would step up to the plate and give me the love I so desperately knew I deserved.

Why was that so impossibly beyond my reach?

I stood up and felt all the blood rush to my head. I stumbled and caught myself on the fridge, leaning against it’s cold, hard surface with my hands and face. My fingertips told my brain it was Hunter’s chest and I beat my fist against it as I wept. It didn’t budge, and instead sent pain firing through my wrist and up my arm. It hurt, but that was better than the aching in my heart and the sickness in my stomach.

As I walked to the sink, I felt a sharp pain in my core, every step reminding me of where Hunter had stretched me open. It hurt from what he’d done to me, but it hurt even more now that he was gone. It was the only proof I had that he’d been there at all, and that it hadn’t all been in my imagination. It showed me it was real, that what he’d done was real, and most of all, that he was real. I picked up my underwear off the floor and slipped them back on. I didn’t want to be exposed anymore. I wanted to cover myself up and forget everything that had just happened. The diner, the beating, the feelings I had for him, and most of all, him being inside my house and me.

I moved back toward the sink and let the water run over the dishes. I had to keep moving. I wanted to keep weeping, I needed that release, but I had to keep moving. Anything to distract my mind.

It was no use. I could still feel him coursing through my body. I could smell his scent on me. I could taste his tongue in my mouth. I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see him there ready to pounce like he had before.

As I stood there washing, all I could think of was him lifting me onto the sink and putting his mouth on me. The hot water pouring over my hands felt like a dull version of the sensation that had spread over my entire body as he’d run his tongue across me, opening me up just enough to slide his fingers into my wetness.

I slammed the tap off and pounded my fists on the counter.

Enough. Enough of this silliness.

Are you really going to let him get to you? Are you really going to stand here and run the whole thing over and over in your mind? Girl, get a grip.

I did want to move on, but I couldn’t. Everywhere I looked in the room, all I saw was his massive body moving about at will. I was thrown back into the moment every time I pictured his hand in my hair, pulling my head back to look into his eyes. I could feel myself getting wet thinking about his chiseled and naked body standing over me, making me wait for him. My breathing got heavy again as I imagined his thick, throbbing cock going deep inside me, hitting places I never even knew existed. I felt sick as I thought of him walking out the door, as if he hadn’t just given me the most intense experience of my life. I hated the idea that I was just another girl, and he was just another guy, and that what we’d done didn’t mean anything. It meant something to me. I didn’t want it to, I hated that it did, but that was the truth.

It meant everything to me.

But to him, it was nothing. He’d walked out the door like we’d done nothing more than shared a cup of coffee. Less than that even. I knew in my heart, my soul, and by my aching body, that what had just happened was not nothing. That it was something.

Had he really not felt it?

Was that really just something he did, like eat dinner or nearly put his fist through someone’s face when they crossed him?

But the two jerks earlier hadn’t crossed him, they’d crossed me.

Why would he do that for me if he didn’t feel something too? Why would he come here if he was just going to use me and walk out of my life?

I’d felt the electricity between us like I was connected to a power company generator. He had to have felt it as well, didn’t he?

Damn it, Kelly.

I was left with nothing but questions. More than I had when he was just some mysterious stranger in the diner, drinking his coffee.

Then it dawned on me.

What if he didn’t feel anything?

What if he didn’t feel anything for me, just like he didn’t feel anything for the two guys he almost killed in the diner? Maybe we were the same to him. There were people in the world like that. People who went from place to place, person to person, and never let them in close enough to affect them. Was that the kind of man I’d just let come inside me?

Was I just a convenient happening that let him release whatever beast lived inside of him, just like those two men at the diner had been?

He’d forgotten his wallet at the diner and saw an opportunity to unleash himself on the two perverts trying to hurt me. He’d wanted a beer and found a vulnerable girl leaving herself open to him and his carnal desires. It hit me like a ton of bricks. He didn’t care about me, them, or anything at all. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and paid no attention to who got in his way or what it did to them as he ripped through their lives like a tornado. He came crashing in, destroyed everything in his path, and then was gone in the blink of an eye without rhyme or reason.

And he couldn’t care less.

I didn’t feel stupid anymore. No, now I was more embarrassed that I had let myself be fooled for a minute. It wouldn’t happen again, though. I’d figured him out. Sometimes there weren’t answers and sometimes there was no explanation for the awful things that happened in life. Parents died in car crashes, boyfriends left with other women, and apparently, whatever Hunter is, strolled into town and took what he needed.

The only problem with that theory was that, when I pictured Hunter’s face, when I remembered the look in his eyes as he held me by the hair, it didn’t add up. Hunter wasn’t something awful to me, even after he left me aching on the floor, dazed and confused. When I was around him, I didn’t feel sick, I didn’t feel tired, and I didn’t feel alone. He made me feel better than I had in years, and in just a matter of hours, he’d succeeded in making it seem like I wasn’t just going through the motions of my life.

He was unexpected and chaotic, powerful and pure. All I hoped for was to see him walk through that door and take me back into his arms.

I glanced up at the clock above the sink. Two forty-five in the afternoon. I needed to get in the shower and clean myself up, collect my thoughts, and get back to reality. Lucas would be home from school any minute now.