“What is the matter with you?”
Now his face was coming apart, the enraged look morphing to unrestrained desperation. “I just need to touch you after that, Skye.”
“After what?” But I knew what already. He didn’t like me seeing Leo. He needed to mark his territory, like I was some possession a dog takes a piss on to ward other dogs away. It irked me because it made me feel caught in the middle—a place they assured me I wouldn’t be.
He stopped spinning the cigarette between his fingers and snapped it in half instead, throwing it down on the ground. Then he raked a hand through his hair and paced for a few moments. “What did you two talk about?” he suddenly asked. “What did he say to you to make you laugh? I saw you smiling at him, Skye, and I swear to fuck, I’ve never seen you smile at me like that—”
“Slow down—”
“You’re mine, that was the deal, you’re fuckingmine, Skye—”
“Hunter, calm down!”
“It shouldn’t be like this.I shouldn’t fuckingfeellike this!” He turned to face the wall, stretching his arms out. He pressed his hands against the brick, dipping his head so he was staring down at his feet. I approached him slowly. Even with his head dipped, I had to look up at him, feeling my heart crash against my chest at the pained look in his eyes.
“Do you want me to stop seeing him while I’m with you?” I asked him, trying to fix this.
He wouldn’t look at me. “I want hell of a lot more than that, Skye.”
I twisted my body away, unable to confront what he meant. This was hard—I knew it would be hard, but I still didn’t expect to feel this way. Conflicted. Confused. Like I was being ripped in two. This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t how we said it would be. Yet reality was settling in, and I needed to fix it the way Leo fixed everything. God, if he was here, he’d know what to do.
I stood alongside Hunter, saying nothing as patrons poured in and out of the doors, some bikers casting us curious glances. I didn’t like the attention. “Hunt,” I whispered, “let’s talk about it in our room, alright?”
I went to grab his hand, but he pushed off the wall and stormed inside. Damn tall men. I ran after him as he pushed people aside, entering the lounge room and then the surveillance room. I politely said my hellos to everyone, putting on a fake smile that immediately fell the second we were in the surveillance room and running up the stairs.
“Everything alright?” Kyle asked, but the jerk had probably seen us out front on the cameras and knew we weren’t alright.
I glanced at him over my shoulder, glaring as he stared after us with an amused look on his face. “Dandy,” I lied.
His chuckle faded as we stepped into the clubhouse and Hunter was rushing to our room. The second we entered, he brushed me aside and locked the door. Flipping on the light, he began to throw off his leather jacket, needily demanding me to, “Take it off, Skye. I want to fuck you.”
I didn’t take anything off. I stood in front of him as he tore his shirt off next. Jesus, he had an eight pack, I swear to fucking God he did. And those arms. God, they were bulging effortlessly, and he didn’t even need to flex. The unfinished tattoo on his chest looked so fucking good against his light skin. I wanted to trace it with my tongue, but shook my head instead, telling the horny side of me to settle the hell down because I was pretty sure we were arguing.
When he didn’t see me undressing, his face went tight as he came at me, grabbing at my jacket. I slapped his hands away, which made him fucking growl. “Stop growling, you’re not an animal,” I fumed, jumping away from his body as he came at me. I hurried away from him, until we were doing this bizarre dance around the room.
“Take off your jacket,” he told me.
“No,” I replied.
“Skye—”
“I’m not a body you use to take theedgeoff,” I sourly said.
“Stop twisting what I meant—”
“But that’s what you said! If you can’t smoke, you needed to fuck so you can ‘take the edge off.’” I delivered those words with air quotes and all, giving him a filthy look as he barked out a hard laugh.
“I’m fucking going out of my mind here,” he told me, circling me now. “You’re mine, Skye—”
“I’m not athing, Hunt.”
“Stop twisting my fucking words.”
“Stop coming at me then.”
He came to a complete stop beside the bed. I was standing with my back to the window, still in my giant jacket, sweating my ass off because it was hot as hell in here for once.
“Have we settled down?” I asked him, arching a brow as I looked him over.