Beachwood Bay 04 - Untamed Hearts

wondering if he thinks it’s just a run-down old shack.
    “This is amazing,” he says instead, crossing immediately to the old wooden chest in the corner, hand-carved and still standing, a good twenty years after it had been abandoned. “How is all of this still here?”
    “Nobody comes around.” I shrug, “There are easier places for the kids to hang out.”
    “I love it.” Hunter goes to the far window, looking out over the rocky shore and the bay beyond. “It’s like we’re hidden on the edge of the world.”
    He turns back to me and our eyes meet across the small room. It’s like a switch has been flipped, flooding my body with desire all over again. Suddenly, I remember what we were doing, before I brought us here inside.
    What we were about to do.
    My breath catches in my throat as Hunter slowly crosses the distance between us. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he whispers, reaching to brush a lock of hair back from my eyes. “For sharing this with me.”
    I nod, entranced by the blue of his eyes, deep as midnight in the dark room. He doesn’t realize, this place is only part of what I’ve shared. The things I’ve told I’m tonight, the way I’ve let him in... It’s more than I’ve given any guy before.
    “Brit” He murmurs my name, so soft, it’s barely a whisper over the distant crashing of the ocean. “God, what you do to me...”
    He trails his index finger down my cheek, along the curve of my jaw, then lower still. I shiver, my eyes falling shut, lost in the darkness and the low, clawing thread of desire. I’m hypnotized, powerless to do anything but feel the shiver of his caress on my skin. Lower, lower, he trails his finger along my collarbone, slowly teasing along the neckline of my dress.
    He stops.
    My eyes fly open, staring straight into his. He’s watching me, studying me with such intensity, I want to look away, but I can’t, I just gaze back, helpless, as both his hands sweep up along my bare shoulders and then slowly, deliberately, push my thin straps aside.
    My heart skips. The dress is flimsy, and I’m not wearing a bra underneath, but there’s no time to feel self-conscious, not when Hunter’s fingertips are dancing across my skin, sending shivers of quicksilver pleasure spiraling out from his touch as he edges the thin fabric lower, lower, until it falls around my waist and my breasts are bared, pale in the moonlight.
    Hunter sucks in a ragged breath.
    “God... Brit...” He stares at me, and despite my mindlessness, I feel a thrill from the desperate desire written clear on his beautiful face.
    “You’re perfect,” he breathes, staring at me like I’m a work of art, a priceless treasure. “So fucking perfect.”
    I catch my breath, waiting for the clumsy assault: the pawing, the rough grope that’s surely coming now. But Hunter barely moves, he just takes that one, perfect finger, and strokes it slowly over the slope of my breast.
    I shudder.
    He strokes again, tantalizing, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out. The ache in me is coiling tighter, rising higher with every touch. Hunter gently circles one nipple, and then slowly drags his thumb across the tight nub. I whimper, the pressure so sweet, but somehow not enough. I feel myself arching against his hand, my body demanding more.
    Hunter lifts his eyes to mine, and gives me a slow, wicked smile. “You like that?” he murmurs, dropping his lips to my neck in a trail of delicate kisses. I shiver against him in answer, my body flooding with an unfamiliar need. “Tell me, he whispers, his tongue wreaking havoc against the column of my throat. “Tell me if you want more.”
    And then his hand stills, gentle again, barely brushing my skin. I feel the ache of absence, needing him touch on me again. “Yes!” I manage a strangled sob. “Hunter, please!”
    I feel him growl against me, and then both magnificent hands are on me again, claiming me, stroking and teasing, cupping me, driving me wild with need until I’m panting, writhing against him.
    “Hunter!” I sob, reckless. He lifts his head in answer, finally returning his lips to mine, capturing my mouth in a kiss of pure wanton need. His lips crash against me, tongue plunging deeper, invading me, and just as I’m lost, delirious in the maelstrom, his thumb and fingers close around my nipples and squeeze.
    Oh god!
    I cry out against his mouth, reeling from the sharp delight. Hunter groans, squeezing again, toying and rolling the nubs,