We pulled up to the curb outside the old house. I’d kept it pretty well, replacing things, making sure the paint job looked new. But as I watched Zoey climb off the back of my ride and walk toward it, her eyes wide with wonder, I couldn’t help but think this was why I’d waited so fucking long to come back to her finally.
She was why I’d waited so long.
If I was ever going to make this place home again, it needed the kind of life that I just couldn’t give it and seeing her face light up, I was suddenly starting to wonder whether Ripley was right. Whether there was something about this woman that I couldn’t fucking understand or explain if I wanted to, but that was just so goddamn perfect.
“This place is beautiful,” she whispered as we walked up the porch stairs, and I pushed the door open. She stepped in before me, her body beginning to twirl in the middle of the entranceway, her eyes focused on the two-story ceiling above us. “Whose is it? Why is it empty?”
“It’s mine.”
She jerked to a halt, almost catching her foot and landing on her ass.
I said nothing else as I walked through to the kitchen, her eager footsteps following behind me.
“And it’s been sitting here empty like this? Um… why?”
Leaning back against the kitchen counter, I folded my arms across my chest, feeling that familiar ache begin to build. “My granddad built it. My dad grew up here, I grew up here, my boys did, too,” I explained, feeling my throat tighten. “Their mom committed suicide in the upstairs bathtub when they were young. Rip found her. He’s had nightmares about it ever since.”
Her hand reached for her heart, and I saw the pain in her eyes. It was as if she could feel it seeping out of the walls and into her.
There was something so fucking different about this woman, something I was beginning to think I didn’t fucking deserve. I wasn’t a good man—I had blood on my hands, more than most men I knew. I’d taken more lives than I could count, and when it came down to it, I knew I wasn’t fucking done with them either.
How was a soul like hers, so vibrant and fierce, meant to feel anything for one as dark as mine?
“So why are we here?” she asked, moving a little closer, her head tilted in curiosity.
“Because I want my boys to raise their families here,” I answered, my eyes beginning to wander. “I want them to feel something other than pain when they step inside this house. Family is important to me, it might not seem like it sometimes because my kids can be assholes, but they are fucking everything.”
When I finally met her eyes again, it was her smile that had me shaking my head as I backed away, continuing the tour into the first bathroom.
“Don’t fucking look at me like you’ve just seen a rainbow shine out my ass,” I scolded, only making her smile grow bigger, her body propped against the doorframe. “Stop it.”
She shook her head and let out a gentle giggle. “The whole dark, brooding thing is sexy as hell, but everything you just said… far more so.”
“You’re going to tell no one.”
“I make no promises.”
I reached over and grabbed the showerhead, turning the faucet on full before turning it on her. Zoey’s screams echoed in the bathroom as I drenched her from head to toe in ice-cold water before hanging it back up on the wall. “See, look… I’m a fucking asshole.”
“I can’t believe you just did th-that,” she stammered, her teeth chattering as she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and peeled it up over her head, the fabric hitting the floor with a heavy slap. She reached for her jeans next, the fabric completely drenched.
“Don’t.”
Zoey’s fingers paused, hovering over the button. Her eyes slowly rose to look at me, her lips slightly parted. “Why?”
I took a step forward. “Because I’m already fighting to keep my fucking hands to myself right now,” I explained through gritted teeth, unable to keep my eyes off the perfect curve of her breasts as she stood in just a bra.
Though I knew the second her tongue snaked out, wetting her lips, that I wasn’t going to be able to walk away.
Not right now.
Maybe not ever.
Zoey
Huntsman moved so fast I barely got the chance to suck in a breath before my back was slammed against the wall, and his mouth was on mine.
His beard tickled at my cheeks as his tongue swept inside my mouth, controlling and demanding just like him—and I loved every damn second of it. I made quick work of the button on my jeans, thankful for his help as he yanked them down over my thighs to my knees, but the second I went to pull them down any further, his hand reached for my throat, grasping my neck and pinning me back against the wall.
“Hands up. Above your head.”
I eased my hands back, clasping them together before lifting them over my head and pressing my body hard back against the cold tile wall. The second I was stretched out in front of him, he took advantage, his hand falling from my neck to my chest and making quick work of my bra before taking my breasts in handfuls and directing the right one into his mouth. My thighs clenched, my pussy instantly beginning to throb as his tongue flicked at my nipple. He switched, moving to the other side.
I tilted my head back, squeezing my eyes shut while my mouth hung wide open, already fighting for each breath. “Fuck,” I cursed when my nipple finally popped from his mouth, and he stepped back, allowing the cold air to hit the hot little bud. The sensation making my clit pulse hard, like it was screaming for attention.
When I didn’t get any for a few moments, I opened my eyes and dropped my gaze.
Huntsman was watching me with his jeans down around his ankles and his hand on his cock, squeezing and pulling long, hard strokes.
“Bet you want to come already, don’t you?” he rasped, drawing me from my entrancement. He stepped in just slightly, his lips barely brushing mine as he pressed his hands to the tiles on either side of me and leaned in.
With his face merely inches from mine, I slowly drew my arms down, holding eye contact as I reached out and wrapped my fingers on one hand around this long, thick cock. “Mmm,” I hummed, fighting the urge to direct it between my legs and beg him to fill me.
“Put your hands on the edge of the bath.”
I shuffled toward the bath, placing my hands on the edge and leaning forward. My jeans had my legs pinned together, but Huntsman didn’t seem to mind as he crouched down behind me and swept his tongue through my pussy.
“Holy crap,” I rasped, arching my back.
He tickled my clit for a second, and I couldn’t help but lift up on my toes and press my ass back. Desperate for more.
“Ride my tongue. Go on,” he growled, pressing it hard against my clit.
I groaned loudly and moved my hips up and down, the pressure instantly beginning to build. My hands gripped the bath like a lifeline as my legs began to shake, my entire body quaking and shuddering as my orgasm hit like a fucking freight train.
He was quick to catch me, getting to his feet and wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling my body up, so my back was pressed to his chest, the both of us breathing heavy. “Feeling good?” he growled in my ear.
“More.”
“Greedy.”
“Please.”