36. Waste No Tears

Chapter 36

Waste No Tears

MEGAN

I rest my hand on one of Hunter's forearms, and through his jacket, I feel cords of sturdy muscle.

"I do what I have to do to survive in there. If I act like I've moved on from what happened, they'll get bored and move on, too. I can't have everyone thinking that those elitist kids broke me."

"You shouldn't have stopped me earlier then. Don't tell me you still have feelings for him."

"Don't insult me," I snarl furiously. "Once is enough to make a fool out of me. If I ever had the opportunity, without facing any consequences, I would embarrass the fuck out of Ricky. I would put him in the same position I was in and then make sure the whole world sees it."

A pleased expression crosses Hunter's face at my vicious words.

"Good, hold on to that anger. He's not the only one who has backing. Remember who you belong to. Don't ever forget that. As long as I have your loyalty, you are under my protection. From this moment on, nobody will dare lay even a finger on you. I know you don't trust many people but trust that."

I stir in his arms, conflicted by his possessive words.

"I don't belong to you. I work for you."

His mouth is inches from mine when he murmurs, "I think you and I both know that you most certainly belong to me, and I don't like the fact that any part of that boy's body touched your mouth. I want to erase every memory you have of him from your body and your brain."

His tongue darts out to lick at the seam of my lips, and my lips part without hesitation, almost instinctively.

Then I pause.

"I'm not doing this with you," I tell him, trying to remember my resolve.

"So, tell me to stop," he responds, his eyes boring into mine.

I hear nothing but the tires rotating under us as Parker drives us aimlessly around the city. Nothing but heat surrounds me as Hunter looks at me with hunger and ownership.

"You are–"

His kiss is surprisingly gentle as he covers my mouth, cutting off any more conversation. There is no fierce explosion of electricity, just a smoldering heat, which makes it difficult to think. He gently forces his way inside as his tongue curls around mine, taking from me whatever he wants.

Everything.

This differs from every other kiss we've had. I want to sink into him. I want to ask for more and plead for him to give me everything.

I unhook my seatbelt with my left hand and curl into his body, sliding my arms around his neck. Our kiss grows deeper but not pornographic. It's intense but not dirty.

His arms gently slide around my waist, and when he palms one of my ass cheeks, I can't help but emit a small groan. The attraction between us is palpable. There's no denying it. I feel something different for this man, and it's not just lust.

I want him to consume me.

I just don't know how to tell him that I do.

Suddenly, the kiss ends, and he pulls away. Without thinking, I mumble the words, "I hate you."

"No, you don't." He smiles down at me, amused, but his eyes are burning with something so intense that I can't hold his gaze, my heart beating wildly. I don't know what this emotion is or if it's shared between us, but it terrifies me.

"You should be careful of whom you chat with for appearances' sake, Megan," He breathes against my neck, his mouth pressing an open-mouthed kiss on the side of my neck. "I seem to get a little homicidal when I see other men around you."

It's difficult to form a coherent response with his mouth peppering kisses on my neck. "Well, that's a pity, considering that I work with chatty, drunk men at the club all the time."

"Maybe I should change your position," he offers, and my eyes widen in horror.

"You can't be serious. I just got the management role."

A glint in his eyes spells trouble, and he presses another kiss to my neck.

"Maybe I should hire you as my personal assistant. The kind of work I do is so stressful. It would be nice to be taken care of."

It takes me a few seconds to realize what he means, and I slap him on the chest.

"You are a perverted old man!"

"Only for you."

He steals another kiss, deeper this time, while he traces my collarbone with his fingers, which always wreaks havoc on my panties.

"We discussed this before," he continues, teasing me with his words and mouth. "There's nothing perverted about it. I can work at my desk, and you can be my little cock warmer."

I should be offended.

Any woman would be.

But when Hunter talks dirty like this, it only makes me want him more, so he keeps talking.

"You don't think. You don't speak. For those few hours, you're on your knees like a good girl, licking my cock like a lollipop. Tending to it." His thick voice in my ear makes me let out a whine, and I feel his chest rumble. "You just become mine for those few hours. You don't have to worry about anything. I'll take care of everything. Your job is to exist for me."

My core aches for him.

What kind of control does this man have over me? I think in dazed shock. My entire head is filled with visions of me on my knees, serving him, just like he said.

"Not today, however." He chuckles lightly, and my cheeks flush in shame. "Today, I still need a manager."

"You jerk!" I hit him again.

He roars with his amusement. His laughter is a low, soothing sound filled with wickedness.

"Good, you're no longer crying."

My hand automatically goes to my cheeks, and I realize they're indeed dry. Even with a smile on his face, his eyes turn dark and dangerous.

"I don't even like sharing your tears, Megan." He swoops some of my stray hairs back into their ponytail. "Don't ever waste your tears on a man who isn't me."

I blink, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

"What?"

"You heard me. Not one more fucking tear."