Mine - Page 48

Umm…

I sat there speechless.

Eccentric is right, Hunter.

“Sorry.” Baptiste blew at the smoke and watched it drift away. “When it comes to talking about Nakita, there is no logic to my words.”

“Your love sounds beautiful.”

“That’s the only way love can be. Anything else isn’t love. It’s sex. It’s lust. It’s a good time. It’s content. It’s fear to go deeper. But it’s not love.” Baptiste rose and pulled out a pack of New Health cigarettes. “You want to smoke?”

“No, thank you.”

“It’s a nasty habit I just picked up.”

Death did that.

He walked away with a sad expression on his face and went out onto the balcony.

When he closed the glass door, I imagined the many lives that Nikita and he had. I wanted the love he’d described and all its beauty. Every drop of it. Every heartbreaking ache.

I fell asleep on the couch as clouds of sage hovered over me.

The next time I opened my eyes, the sun was barely rising in the sky, and Hunter stood on the deck doing Tai chi. He wore gray pants and a top, no sneakers or socks on his feet. His hair was ruffled as a breeze whipped through it. Dark gray clouds promised a storm above. Still he remained, executing smooth, slow movements on the balcony. His eyes stayed closed as he fanned his big muscular arms around him in a subtle dance with the wind.

He looked more at peace now than I’d ever seen him. I was happy he’d found a way to be happy after all he’d gone through. Baptiste appeared extremely devoted.

Somehow, I fell back to sleep.

Hunter woke me up later.

Now, he was showered and changed.

I watched him the whole time in a daze. For some odd reason, when I woke up this morning, I’d thought it might’ve all been a dream that he’d come back.

So, I studied him, stalking my Hunter like I’d done long ago.

He consumed a pint of iced orange juice, four scrambled eggs, and double bacon. While I nibbled on my fruit, he handed me a large slice of his bacon. After that, I was helping him eat his eggs.

The whole time, we sat by the window.

The city came alive below.

Baptiste appeared next, heading straight to the balcony where he shifted in and out of yoga poses. And there was nothing feminine or soft to the stereotypical idea of the practice. Here he showed the true essence of yoga—the balancing one’s whole body on almost nothing. The flexibility. The possible out of the impossible.

When Baptiste left, Hunter walked out onto the balcony.

I followed with a large cup of tea. Steam rose as I sipped the sweet, warm liquid.

Hunter took out a cigarette.

“What?” Shocked, I said, “I thought you hate smoking.”

“I do. It’s addictive.”

“But you smoke.”

“Because it’s addictive.” He rose and walked out to the balcony. “I only have one in the morning, and not always.”

“Not at night or after lunch?”

“No.”

“That’s still pretty disciplined.”

“It really isn’t. I should’ve knocked out this habit years ago.” He lit the cigarette.

“You’re not going to offer me one?”

“Of course not.” He blew out two rings. “It’s addictive.”

I smiled as the rings floated above him. “That doesn’t smell like a cigarette.”

“I have a guy who makes them for me in London. It’s a Balkan and Turkish mixture lined with herbs.”

The air filled with a perfumed scent.

I grinned. “They also smell expensive.”

“Because they are.” He blew out smoke and drank me in. “I’ve been trying to focus, but I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.”

“Me too.”

“After I find your stalker…there will be more kisses.”

“I would rather have them now, even if you don’t find him.”

“That’s not what will happen.”

“What will happen then?”

“We remain…disciplined until—”

“Hunter, I am not a one-cigarette-a-day-type of person. I want what I want, right when I want it.” I frowned. “And I want you. Now.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” I asked.

He inhaled the cigarette and then blew it out. “We don’t fuck, until I get this guy.”

The words sounded gruff and hot coming out of that sexy mouth.

“That’s why I’m smoking now.” He took another hit. “I wouldn’t kiss you after smoking one.”

“So, that’s your plan, Hunter. Really? You think you’re going to avoid kissing me? Avoid…fucking me?”

He sneered in desire for a second and then turned away, sticking that damn cigarette back in his mouth. “I’ll find this guy by tonight.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Zola, he sent you eyeballs. We need to focus.”

“Yes! He sent me eyeballs. All the reason why I should get some dick.”

He froze mid-air, stopped for a few seconds, and then stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. Next, he closed the distance so fast, I hadn’t expected it. And then, he had me against the wall with my arms up and his hard body pressed against mine.

In a flash, he consumed my mouth and I tasted those perfumed herbs on his tongue. It made the kiss exotic and wild. He dragged himself away from my mouth. “We have to go.”

Tags: Kenya Wright Romance
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