Mine - Page 67

Last night was perfect.

For several silent seconds, I thought about what he’d done to my body tonight and even earlier in the dressing room. I’d almost lost my balance with one arm hooked on him and my whole focus on his tongue. I was shocked I didn’t scream up the whole building. There was crazy talent in his tongue. I’d come harder with his mouth than any other’s man’s cock. And his mouth had been damn good to experience. It drove me wild. Now that I’d had his cock and that mouth, I could never even think about sleeping with anyone else.

My vision adjusted to the dimly lit room. Blinking, I rolled to my side and was about to leave his arms. Hunter gently grabbed my waist. I jumped a little.

“Sorry.” He slowly sat up. “Did you get some rest?”

“Yes. I didn’t realize you were up.”

“I wasn’t.”

“When did you wake up?” I asked.

“When you moved.” Hunter’s deep voice slipped along my skin. “Did you dream about me?”

I smiled. “Not this time.”

“Then, I’ll have to fuck you harder before you go to sleep tonight.” Hunter rose from the bed, pulled on some jeans, and stepped into the moonlight seeping in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The lights of the city glittered in a sea of black around him.

Damn, he’s so fucking gorgeous.

I loved a man that could really wear a pair of jeans. Hunter met the challenge. The waist hung under that abdominal curve muscle, and I yearned to yank them down. The bottom of his jeans broke over the arch of his bare feet. The scent of sex drifted from his skin.

Jesus. Is he really mine now?

He looked more like a warrior than a guard. His shoulders were broad. His ribs were lean. His waist narrowed perfectly beneath the low-slung and well-worn jeans. Even his incredible backside was etched out in hard muscle. In fact, everywhere I looked said power and strength.

His usually styled hair was ruffled and sensually messy. I held a silly grin on my face, unable to deal with his gorgeousness.

Interrupting my drooling, he asked. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll be right back.” He headed to the door, opened it, and left.

When the door closed behind him, I shivered. I should’ve felt safe being alone. Hunter was just right in the next room. But after everything that had happened, I jumped more and dreaded any possibility of isolation.

I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.

I leaned over to the nightstand and turned on the light.

Hunter will find him.

Illuminated, the room appeared less scary. I let out along breath. This sicko was closing in. The more I let myself think about it, the more rage roared inside me.

Why can’t this asshole just leave me alone? Why does the world have so many sickos?

It all caught up with me then. The fear, the humiliation, the defeat. I’d been doing my best to hold it together, but in the quiet of the suite, I let go. With Hunter gone and my having time to think in moonlit darkness, I couldn’t shake the memory of the stalker’s latest attack out of my mind.

What will he do next?

My eyes watered. Fear poured through my body. It snaked into muscle and bone, wounding me up into a tight ball.

I’m not dead. I’m alive. He didn’t kill me.

Still, I couldn’t get the image of some masked person shooting at me out of my head. I started shaking. Uncontrollably. I touched my hand to my chest. My heart beat fast. My brain on anxiety was a motherfucker. I spent the next silent seconds battling and pushing away visions of some sicko hiding in my closet or lurking under my bed waiting to jump out and rip my throat open with a knife.

Thank God, Hunter returned. Still, I refused to let him see me so weak. He sat right next to me, holding the tea. “It’s okay, Zola.”

“I know.”

He handed me the cup. “It’s going to take time for you to get over this.”

“I should get over it fast. Nothing has really happened to me.”

“A lot has.”

“Yes, but I haven’t been raped or physically attacked. I need to get it together.”

“No, you have a right to be scared. Fuck that.” He took the cup of tea from my hand and placed it on the nightstand. “Come here.”

I scooted over close to him. The moment I slipped into his arms, my anxiety fell. I felt safe and protected. A shiver rippled through me, and I closed my eyes.

“It’s going to be okay.” Hunter ran his fingers through my hair. “Soon. I’ll find him soon.”

I lifted my head and gazed at him. “He’s dangerous. You have to be just as careful as me.”

“He hides. I don’t. He doesn’t want any of me.”

I swallowed.

“But…never mind all of that.” His gaze softened. So did his voice as he landed sweet kisses on my forehead. “I’m close, baby. Very close.”

Tags: Kenya Wright Romance
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