Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 120134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Cunning, blue-blooded bastard.
And his family thought he was stupid.
Hunter made a show of going into his en-suite bathroom as loud as humanly possible, filing from his room to mine, whistling the Kill Bill theme song calmly. Emmabelle burst out laughing, while Persy and Aisling exchanged worried looks. I stayed put, my body humming with the need to jump and take a look.
A spider.
On my pillow.
The suspense was killing me.
Maybe the spider itself was next. What if it was a black widow? A red-backed spider?
I shot to my feet. “I’m just going to…” I motioned with my hand to my room.
My friends nodded in unison.
“Yeah, you probably should,” Persy squeaked.
I sailed through the hallway on those damn heels, looking left and right, finding Hunter trooping back to his room, his back to me. I chased him, snatching the hem of his muscle shirt. He ignored me, essentially dragging me into his room, since I didn’t let go. Rather than giving me the time of day, he continued straight into his bathroom, disposing a piece of tissue into the trash can.
The tissue he used to move the spider from point A to point B?
“There isn’t a spider.” I scowled at him.
Our eyes met in the mirror. He looked down to turn the tap on, a small smile on his face. He took his time, washing his hands from the probably imaginary spider, toweling them off, then turning around to face me. When he did, he crowded me with his body, making me take a step back toward the shower. The glass door was open, and my injured shoulder bumped into it. I winced.
Hunter picked up a wisp of my freshly cut hair, rubbing it. We both watched the magnificent softness of it, so delicate I feared it’d melt like butter between his fingertips.
“Chopping your hair off won’t stop me from grabbing it when we have sex,” he said tonelessly.
I looked away, feeling my face heat. “Is there, or isn’t there a spider in my bedroom?” I asked, my breath dancing behind my ribcage.
Hunter still frowned at my hair, taking another step forward. I took another step backward, careful not to hit the tiles.
“Sly little banshee you are, letting us all believe you were dull-looking.”
“I am dull-looking,” I countered, still worried about the spider.
He shook his head, his gaze sliding from my hair to my eyes.
“What am I going to do with you, aingeal dian?” He wrapped his hands around my neck and face, tilting my head upward.
Watching him watch me felt like being buried alive. Before his eyes landed on me, I’d felt like I was wearing the wrong skin, the wrong face. Because of his gaze, I felt beautiful, and that was seriously addictive.
I took another step back involuntarily. This time my back did hit the tiles with a soft thud.
“We need to stop,” I croaked.
“Stop what?” He feigned innocence, his intense expression turning blank.
“This thing between us. You’re a master at flings. I’m not. I just came here to know if there’s a spider in my room.”
“There isn’t,” he said easily, one of his hands reaching behind me. “And let’s not insult your intelligence by pretending this was about the fucking spider.”
“You’re the one who came up with this scheme,” I reminded him.
I wondered about numbers as his body inched closer to mine, tantalizingly hot and inviting and irresistible.
Number of hearts that perished in the Hunter-storm wake.
Number of times he’d heard the word no and effortlessly turned it into a yes.
Number of tears shed because of this gorgeous creature, who couldn’t help being who he was.
“Aye,” he hissed, pressing me against the tiles now, my chest against his upper belly, our thighs aligned, our mouths almost brushing. “But I’m never above insulting my own intelligence.”
“Hunter Fitzpatrick, what are your intentions with my virtue?” I looked up, asking for the first time in a real, straightforward fashion.
He smirked down at me.
“Funny you should ask, Miss Brennan. I’m afraid I’m going for complete destruction.”
With one swift movement, he turned on the shower spray, soaking us both. I let out a cry, holding on to his body as the cold water pelted my flesh punishingly. I heard his gravelly laugh as he scooped me up and wrapped me around him like I was an octopus, dipping his mouth to mine before I could protest.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I remembered I had friends waiting in the living room, and that one of them was blood-related to the person devouring me in his shower, while we were both fully clothed—me with a red dress and matching heels still on.
It also didn’t escape me that I was making the very same mistake I’d vowed not to make in the living room minutes ago, when Aisling reminded me who her brother was. But I was completely helpless. Captivated under his spell.