35. Hunter

The steam of the shower filled the glass-encased cubicle. I stood with her under the stream of water and she hissed as I scrubbed gently at the dirt-covered scabs on her hands. The tears hadn't fully stopped. The warm water was helping her body temperature but her eyes were still red and puffy. The glass of water I'd practically poured down her throat had barely touched her dehydration.

"How did you know I was out there?" she asked, her voice cracked and high-pitched.

I pursed my lips, wondering just how much I should say. Fuck it. "I came by to check on you," I started, squeezing out a handful of shampoo and starting to work it through her hair. "I have been for the last few nights."

Her brows creased in confusion as she looked up at me. "I would have seen your headlights."

"I've been turning them off." Gently, I lifted her chin, tipping her head back enough to begin to rinse out her hair. "Dana knew. If I couldn't figure out where you were in the house based on which lights were on, I'd text her to make sure you were okay. But she didn't respond tonight."

Lottie stayed silent as I grabbed for the washcloth hanging on a little hook behind her head. I doused her body wash on it, rubbing it between my hands to start the suds, and gently began dragging it along her collarbone. She bit her lower lip.

"Your lights weren't on. And if you were fine, I didn't want to upset you by calling you. I went to the backyard to check for any lights there and that's when I noticed the porch light was on." I scrubbed over her shoulders, down her arms, working in little circles, cleaning off the dirt and grime. "I had a feeling you'd gone out there. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"I'm sorry you had to find me like that," she mumbled, her eyes following every movement of the cloth.

"Don't apologize. You needed someone."

"I needed you."

"I should have come sooner." I slid the cloth over the plane of her stomach, inching up her ribcage.

"I should have reached out," she said plainly, shrugging. "We can't change that."

Her breath caught as I passed the cloth beneath her right breast, around the side, and over the peak of her nipple. I dragged it over again.

Her fingers wrapped around my bicep, keeping my hand in place. I cupped her left breast, running my thumb along the curvature and drawing out a little sigh from her.

If this was what she wanted, my hands on her and a distraction good enough to keep her mind off of everything, I was more than willing to give it to her.

"Please," she breathed, her chest rising and angling toward me.

I abandoned her left breast and passed her the face wash from the shelf. "Finish cleaning yourself up, sweetheart, and I'll give you anything you want."

————

She tasted like fucking sin.

With my fingers inside of her and my mouth on her clit, she writhed beneath me, damp hair splayed out across her sheets. I kneeled on the old wooden floor, splinters cutting into my bare skin. I ate her as if she were my last meal, feasting and devouring, savoring every goddamn morsel. It had been too long. I ached for her.

The light was dim in her bedroom, the hanging fairy lights that wrapped around each of the four walls the only illumination. They twinkled in their reflection on the little wet spots across her body, painting her in an almost ethereal glow as her back arched and her hands fisted the duvet. It was something I could happily watch forever on a never-ending loop.

I curled my fingers inside of her, dragging the tips across the little secret spot within and pulling a moan from her. Her walls tightened around them.

"Oh my God, fuck?—"

"Are you going to come already?" I chuckled, my words muffled from my mouthful. Her thighs clamped down on the sides of my head, dampening the sound of her desperate little cries. "Don't forget to ask permission."

Every flick of my tongue made her shudder. Every movement of my fingers made her moan. I closed my eyes, focusing every bit of attention I had on keeping the pace and rhythm she responded to best. Her fingers slid across the top of my head, grabbing a handful of hair and gripping it so tightly I thought she might rip it out.

"Please, please, Hunter," she panted, the words barely reaching my ears. "Can I?"

My cock, already hard and dripping with precum onto the floorboards, twitched greedily against the side of her bed. "Can you what?"

She broke before she had the chance to curse at me, her body tensing and releasing around my mouth and fingers. I feasted still, pulling her through wave after wave of her orgasm as she frantically tried to push me off. "Hunter," she panted, her thighs flexing and squeezing my head. "Please, please, I can't breathe?—"

I lifted my mouth from her despite the temptation to hear her keep saying the word please. It was almost as sweet as when she said my name. Her hips bucked as I gently slid my fingertips over that sensitive bundle again.

I stood from the floor, my knees aching and red, and settled on top of her. Her legs encased my hips, locking me with my aching cock against her clit. I focused far too much on making sure that I didn't immediately succumb to my own needs.

"Look at you," I said, cupping her face in my hand as her wild eyes met mine. I dragged my thumb across her lips and she opened them for me. "So pliable. You'd do anything I asked right now, wouldn't you?"

Deep red sprung up across her cheeks. Her tongue flicked out, warm and soft and tempting against the pad of my thumb.

"So fucking sexy." My hips moved involuntarily against her, giving myself just an ounce of friction. She whimpered, sucking my thumb entirely into her mouth as her eyes closed. I moved again, sliding myself over her dampness over and over, losing myself in the sensation despite her bucking hips that asked for more. "Maybe I should just keep doing this," I grunted. "Drive you mad. This just isn't quite enough for you, is it?"

Her eyes popped open, her lower lip jutting out in a pout around my thumb.

"It's enough for me," I chuckled. "Fuck, anything with you is enough for me."

Unlocking her legs from around my waist, she planted both feet firmly on the bed and tilted her hips forward, catching the tip of my cock with her entrance. Before I knew what was happening, her hips were lowering, forcing me halfway inside of her.

I popped my thumb from her mouth and grasped her by the cheeks. "Did I say you could do that, sweetheart?"

The smallest, cutest smile broke across her lips.

"You're lucky you're adorable," I said, burying myself into her with one quick, easy thrust.

————

Morning light trickled in through the open curtains, little specks of dust fluttering about like butterflies in the rays of sunshine. Lottie slept soundly beside me, her naked body tucked up into mine, my arm around her waist. She looked so peaceful, so unaffected by the chaos that had been surrounding her for months. I wished I could extend that into the waking world for her.

I counted each breath. In, out, languid and easy. A stark difference to how she'd been when I'd found her last night, shattered and sobbing. It had broken my heart to see her like that, and still, it hurt to know she'd wake up and be right back in it again.

The least I could do was try to make things a little easier.

Footsteps echoed from downstairs as I slid out of the bed carefully so not to wake Lottie. I pulled on my boxers and joggers then slid out of the room silently, locking eyes with Dana from the top of the stairs. "Shh," I said quietly. "She's still sleeping."

"Still?" Dana asked, her brows raising. "It's almost ten."

I took the stairs two at a time and made my way toward the kitchen. "You say that like you're surprised."

"She's been up before me the last few mornings," Dana said, trailing behind me. "Or maybe she wasn't sleeping to begin with."

"She got plenty of sleep last night." I grabbed the plastic tub of coffee grounds and scooped out enough to make plenty for the three of us. "Did you just get here?"

Hoisting herself up onto the counter, she nodded. "Yeah, I slept at home last night. Sorry I didn't get back to you."

"It's okay. It was a blessing in disguise, really." I opened the cabinets and stared at the emptiness before shifting my attention to the fridge which was practically empty, too.

"I brought groceries," Dana said. "They're out in the car."

I met her gaze, noting how she wasn't staring at my face, but instead at my bare chest. Christ. "And you want me to get them."

"Yes please," she grinned.

————

A knock at the door sent Dana into action. I stayed in the kitchen, organizing the groceries Dana had bought so that when we inevitably left and Lottie was alone, she'd be able to handle cooking for herself.

She hushed whoever it was that came in the door, leading them away from the stairs and toward the kitchen where Lottie was less likely to hear. I don't know who I was expecting, maybe an associate of Brody's, maybe a friend of Lottie's.

Certainly not my damn brother.

"If you're here to argue about me becoming CEO, I'm not entertaining it," I deadpanned. I poured myself a cup of coffee into a hand-painted mug, sloppy hearts and swirls covering it. Did Lottie make this as a kid?

Fred rocked awkwardly back and forth on his feet. "I didn't come to argue with you."

Leaning back against the counter, I crossed my arms over my bare chest, locking eyes with him. "Then why are you here?"

"To offer my condolences to your wife."

Well, that was surprisingly nice of him.

"Is she around?"

"She's not up yet," I sighed. "You're welcome to hang around and wait. Do you want some coffee?"

Dana looked between the two of us, her brows knitted. "I'll, uh, hang out in the living room."

Fred nodded to me as Dana left the room. I poured him a cup and topped it off with a splash of cold water—the way he always asked Mom to make it. There wasn't any use in cooking for Lottie just yet if she wasn't going to be up for a bit, so instead I sunk into the chair across from Fred, the wood creaking with every pound of weight I rested on it.

"I'm not mad at you," Fred started, wrapping both hands around his mug. "In truth, man, you deserved it more than I did."

Thatwas more unexpected than anything he could have said to me.

"You've come a long way in a short time. I'm… honestly kind of proud of you."

I lifted the mug of coffee to my lips, sipping it gently. "That's surprising considering you were right about everything." I didn't know why I said it. Maybe because I was far too relaxed after my night with Lottie, or maybe because the stakes were so minimal now. Or maybe because I'd fooled everyone into believing a love story was happening between us—even myself. "You had every right to question my motives."

"What do you mean?" He leaned forward in his chair, his face scrunching into hard lines.

No point in going back now. "Me and Lottie. It was all fake."

He stared at me for what felt like hours, silence hanging over us like a heavy blanket, building and building, and just when I was about to open my mouth to break it, he erupted into a fit of laughter loud enough that I worried he'd wake Lottie up.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because" he said between laughs, "you outdid yourself. Honestly, if anything I'm impressed. You actually married her." His hand covered his mouth, his chuckles almost unconfined. "Are you going to stay married forever?"

I sighed and leaned back into the squeaky, wooden chair. "I don't know. We said we'd get divorced in a year, but…"

His laughter slowly faded, the wrinkles beside his eyes softening. "You don't want to."

"I don't know. It might have started out fake but it isn't anymore. For either of us," I explained. I stared down at the mug, getting lost in the painted swirls and imagining the little girl in that family photograph painting it at a pottery class. "It's messy, now. The marriage was never supposed to be a part of it. We did that for her dad."

"Did she get something out of it, or just you?"

"I promised her forty-nine percent of the horse breeding business." I glanced through the kitchen's entryway, making sure Dana or Lottie weren't lingering. "I didn't realize that it meant so much to Dad when I offered that. I'm not sure what to do about it now. I don't want to take it away from her, not when she's lost so much already."

Fred stayed quiet for a moment, his lips pursed, his fingers tightening around the mug. "It doesn't surprise me. Any of it," he said simply, a small smile twitching at his lips. "You're so much like me sometimes. And I know your problems might not be the most conventional, but everyone has issues in a relationship. I mean, hell, Penelope and I almost filed for divorce two years ago, but we're good now. If you love her, Hunter, and I can tell you do—we all saw how you looked at her on your wedding day—it'll work out."

My brother wasn't the most talkative, wasn't the most sympathetic, and certainly wasn't the most loving person in the world. But in that moment, that singular, formative moment, it felt like we were kids again and he was teaching me how to ride a bike. Like he was my older brother in more than just title alone. There was a closeness, a relativeness that I hadn't felt for a long, long time.

"I wouldn't worry about the promise you made her," he said simply.

"I have to worry about it. If I don't take it back from her, I'll have to tell Dad at some point, and he'll lose his mind."

Fred shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "It'll still be in the family."

Still in the family.

Why the fuck didn't I think of it like that? That one sentence, Fred's tiny bit of wisdom, lifted a weight off my shoulders. I could let her keep it. I was the CEO now, I was in charge, I called the shots. If I wanted her to have it, Dad didn't have a good reason to be upset about it.

I'd been a fucking idiot to think otherwise.