Pure Illusion (23 page)

“I’m
not.”

He
partly draws out and then slams into me. My breath hitches as I feel my
internal muscles clench around him. If he keeps this up then I’m going to
orgasm and I’m dreading the “consequences.”

“You
are. You’re physically pushing me away now. Let me in.” He withdraws and
plunges into me.

Every
fiber in my body quivers and tightens. “I’m trying,” I whine.

“Try
harder,” he whispers, sinisterly. He slides out and rears up, causing my legs to
wrap around his hips and stiffen.

Pleasant
and overwhelming sensations ripple throughout my body. I push through the warm
tingly waves and suppress my orgasm. A fine sheen of sweat coats our skin. The
arousing scent of sweet musk from our bodies is making me dizzy. He slams into
me over and over again, each time I have to remind myself not to give in, and
each and every time it gets more difficult to do so. Though he isn’t using his
full strength to
thrust
 
into
me, what power his does wield is enough to make me beg and
surrender.  

Tears
form in my eyes and leak on the sides of my face. “Why are you crying? Am I
hurting you?”

My
hands automatically thread into his shaggy golden hair as I open my eyes. The
expression of pure concern on his stunning face makes my heart hurt. “No you
aren’t hurting me. I just…” I tilt my pelvis up.

He
glances down at where we meet and nods, understanding completely what I need.
Hunter gently rocks in and out of me with a steady, unrelenting rhythm that
feels phenomenal. “You feel like heaven, Isabel. Christ, you’re made for me.
Only for me.”

“Harder.
I don’t want you to be nice to me.”

Growling,
Hunter mercilessly grinds into me, holding my wrists down, his nails cutting
into my scars there. Marvelous pleasure explodes in every fiber of my body,
robbing me of oxygen.

I
gasp for air as fierce convulses surges through me and I climax.

My
arms hug his smooth back, pressing him closer into me, wishing I can somehow
absorb into the pores of his skin and stay there forever. I can hardly breathe
with his weight bearing down on me but it feels like all kinds of wonderful. He
fucks me through my orgasm.
“Oh, God.
Oh, God. Oh,
God,” I chant like a mantra.

His
thrusts deeper and at a faster tempo, hitting a sweet spot inside of me that makes
vivid colors burst behind closed lids and steals every wisp of  oxygen
from my burning lungs. “I’m sorry to disappoint, baby, but it’s only me.”

My
limps twitch around him, the sensations too much to process. “
Hunter
!”

“Give
it to me, Isabel,” he growls into my ear, driving into me. We both come in
unison, holding each other the best we can. His scorching semen fills me,
oozing down the sides. I feel hot, sticky, exhausted, and sated. We gaze into
one another’s eyes, chests heaving and breathless. Staring into darkening blue,
I realize this is where I want to be too.

When
I try to rise, Hunter doesn’t allow it. “Stay here with me for a while,” he
murmurs, still hard inside of me.

“I
have to clean up.”

“After.”

Smiling,
I reach up and caress his face, touching his cheekbones, nose, lips, and ears.
“Okay.”

He
groans, dropping his sweaty forehead on shoulder. “I want you to come watch me
with my kids.”

My
throat and muscles tighten to a painful degree. “What
kids
?”

“At
the hospital,” he whispers to my collarbone, “I promised them chocolate chip
cookies and a piano piece today.”

My
heart swells with pride and wonder. “I would love to.”

“I’d
love for you to.” His fingers tangle in my hair and massage my scalp.

“I
love you, Hunter Knight.”

I
feel him growing harder. “Love you, too. Always had, always
will
,”
he says, tenderly sliding in and out of me.

“Harder,”
I whisper.

He
gives me a beguiling smile that I don’t fully trust because it doesn’t reach
his eyes that are shrewd and calculating.

My devious Hunter.

I
smile my own cunning smile. We’re in this together and if we crash and burn,
we’ll go up in flames holding hands.

His
hand suddenly wraps around my throat, he doesn’t use enough strength to
strangle me…just enough so my breathing is labored.

A
scorching orgasm washes over me and I come with shame and guilt lurking in the
shadows of the back of my mind. My lungs burn and spots float around his
smiling face, reminding me to breathe.

“Love
you, too. Always had, always will.”

The Good, Bad &Wicked  

Parents
and nurses in cartoon scrubs and a few doctors prop against the walls of the
hospital, eavesdropping on the soft melodies as Hunter effortlessly plays the
grand piano in the lobby.

I
sit cross-legged on velvety dark green rug under a massive artificial willow
tree that’s a part of a forest scene from a fairy tale. Jackson, a
four-year-old boy diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer, is seated in my
lap and his older sister, Jessie, sits next to me, resting her curly head on my
shoulder. More children lounge around the bridge and park benches made of fake
wood but most are cross-legged on the rug, intently watching Hunter and
gathered around me.

It
is very difficult holding back tears. The beautiful melodies that Hunter
streams fluently and young kids fighting the biggest battle of their lives that
are pressed into me on all sides are almost too overwhelming to take in.
Almost.
Keeping me strong enough to endure this is…Hunter.
He’s dressed casually in a white linen shirt and loose jeans. His wavy blond
hair is disheveled and wild.

Captivated
along with everyone else, I watch him perform. His fingers swiftly move across the
keys, almost too fast to witness. His eyes are closed tightly and he appears to
really be in a zone, on another planet faraway from here. It’s like he’s
playing from some sacred place deep within his soul. I haven’t watched him play
since I was eleven, so this is a special treat that I will always cherish and
keep inside of my heart.

“He’s
amazing and his fingers move really fast. Jessie’s fingers don’t move fast like
Hunter’s fingers, but she sounds amazing, too,” Jackson whispers wide-eyed and
in awe.

“Yeah,
it’s like magic,” Jessie agrees. “How long has he played?”

“Since
he was six,” I say, “and it
is
amazing and like magic.”

They
both nod and Jackson’s little hand reaches out to hold his sister’s. She smiles
over at him and takes his hand in hers, kissing the inside if his small palm.
My eyes burn with tears and my lips tremble. I give up and surrender to the
tears. Wet rivulets silently run down my cheeks. The simple act between Jackson
and Jessie reminds me of how I treated Tyler.

How
I comforted him.

How
I cared for him.

How
I loved him.

How
I miss him.

Hunter
ends on a lovely note. He stands and gives a courteous bow while everyone
applauses and cheers. His eyes narrow once they land on me. Despite the wetness
on my face, I attempt to smile but his eyes are still assessing.

He
sweeps many plastic sags off the hood of the piano, grinning down at the
children. “Who wants cookies?”

Eager
hands fly up with many thrilled approval shouts. Nurses help Hunter pass out
the sweets. Hunter not only made chocolate chip cookies, he made an array of
cookies: oatmeal and raisin, honey and lemon, white chocolate and pecan,
cinnamon and sugar, banana and peanut butter, and flavors of combinations I’ve
never heard of before.

“He
is such an angel,” Jackie, Jackson and Jessie’s mom, murmurs to me as they
freely race towards Hunter, giggling and laughing. “I’ve been pulling extra
shifts at the salon, but it’s never truly enough to pay all the medical pills.
Insurance is shit.” She pauses to look at me. “It’s very difficult and
sometimes feels impossible to do this all on my own. My husband passed two
years ago—boating accident.” She pauses again and takes a deep inhale through
her nose. I supportably rub her back. I have no idea why she’s telling me
something so…
personal
. “Hunter is paying for Jackson’s care. He’s also
paying for Jessie’s piano lessons. He paid my house off and my car. He told me
that all the money I earn now goes to them…to my kids. I don’t even know if he
has any clue what he gifted me with.”

My
heart painfully clenches inside my chest. “That’s wonderful, Jackie. But why
are you telling me? I didn’t need to know.”

She
wipes her tears with the backs of her hands. “Because you’re Hunter’s woman;
it’s in the way you look at him and how he looks at you. I never saw him look
at another woman like that, his eyes only sparkle when he’s with the kids, and
he has never brought anyone along with him. Not since the year we’ve been here.
You should know what kind of man you have on your hands. Hunter…he’s an angel.”

My
breath hitches.

He
never brought anyone along with him?

Jackie
reaches down and squeezes my hand. “You two make a beautiful couple. I’m
overjoyed he found someone to give the world to.” Without another word, she
wanders over to the group of children that surrounds and clings on to Hunter.
Jessie grabs Hunter’s hand and drags him back to the piano. He smiles down at
her and passes a plastic container of cookies to Jackie, then allowing Jessie
to yank his arm and pull him. Jackson gathers two handfuls of sweets before he
avidly follows them. I watch as the three of them sit on the bench and Hunter
begins to teach Jessie how to play the piece he just finished. I recognize the
piece only because my father used to sing the lyrics to me.

It’s
Brahms Lullaby
.

***

Hunter
and I sit in the hospital cafeteria, in the table hidden within a tight corner.
His eyes bore into me as I shove banana pudding in my mouth. I peek up at him
from under my lashes. His features are more inquisitive than impassive.

“I
should really be more conscious of what I’m eating. My tummy is going to get
round,” I say sheepishly.

“You’re
filling out. It’s a good thing. If you stop eating, I’ll be forced to stop
fucking you—round makes my dick hard. Your tits and ass are getting fatter.”

My
mouth is agape as I stare at him.

Is
that a compliment?

He
winks at me so it must be a good thing. We fall back into comfortable silence
and his face takes on an impenetrable expression.

“Are
going to ask me to the Winter Ball?”

“I
have a date already.”

Deep
disappointment surges through me. “Oh.” I’m interested in whom Hunter is taking
but I’m not desperate enough to actually ask. I already feel like the biggest
fool for even mentioning it.
 

He
is so quiet, something is bothering him. “What’s the matter?” I murmur,
swirling whipped cream and pudding together with my plastic spoon.

“I’m
gonna need some answers,” he says simply.

“Okay,
shoot. But it goes both ways.
Deal?”

His
eyes narrow slightly before he mutters, “Deal. Why did you jump off the cliff?
I thought we were past this.”

I
grit my teeth from the disappointment and accusation in his from voice. “I
didn’t jump, Hunter.” My words are tight and strained.

He
cocks his head to the side and eyes me suspiciously. “Then what happened?”

“I
slipped.”

“You
slipped?” he says, skeptically.

“Yeah,”
I whisper to my pudding cup, “it was a complete and total accident. I’m lucky
Hero was there.” I let him scrutinize me a few seconds more before I say,
“Okay.
My turn.
Why did you make me sleep with Candy?”
I stare intently to scrutinize his reaction.

He
smiles, all with teeth and ominously. “I couldn’t take a chance on you fleeing
or doing something stupid.”

I
shrug nonchalantly. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,
that’s it.” He takes a sip from his grape juice, licking the deep purple
droplets from his bottom lip. My eyes dart to his kissable mouth as he speaks.
“What’s going on with you and Max?”

I
shrug again. “We’re friends.”

“Only friends?”

“I
think…Why do you care?”

“He’s
called you eight times. Why would he call you eight times if you were only
friends?”

My
brows crease as I frenetically search my pockets for my cell but coming up
empty. “He called me eight times? Where’s my phone?”

“I
have it,” he mutters.

“Why
do you have my phone?” I didn’t realize my new cell is missing—I had to buy
another one since my old one is sitting at the bottom of the river. I don’t
even know when or where he took it.

Hunter
gives me an once-over that chills my blood. “Why haven’t you answered my
question?”

“Yes,
Max is my friend…a better friend than you have ever been,” I say quietly.

His
jaw ticks, eyes flashing fire. “Watch
yourself
,
Isabel,” he warns sinisterly. “Are you trying to piss me off? Because, baby,
you’re doing an exceptional job.”

I
involuntarily flinch from his hostile tone. My head tips down to stare at hands
fisting in my lap. “I don’t know why he called me eight times. Maybe he needs
me or something. I
don’t
know.”

“He
needs you?” he repeats in less threatening manner but still harsh.

“I
don’t know, Hunter. It might be something important,” I whisper softly. “He’s
been nothing but kind to me. He’s really a nice person. Why are you so upset?
I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Look
at me, Isabel,” he murmurs too quietly. I glance up at his face that’s masked
with anger, or maybe annoyance. “I only do this because I care.”

“You
beat me because you love me?” I ask in utter shock or maybe just denial.

I
watch his lips twitch before he leans in and whispers, “Absolutely.”

“Do
you want to beat me?” I whisper breathlessly, my heart beating wildly in my
ears.

His
pupils dilate, black expanding into darkening blue. His jaw clenches again.
“At times.”

Is
this seriously turning him on?

“Hunter,”
I breathe. “That’s not normal. You can’t get pissed at me and want to
beat
me, or
whip
me, or
spank
me.”

“Are
you ‘normal’?” he contours, dark eyes shrewd.

“Anything
but,” I mumble, spooning pudding in my mouth.

His
brows lift. “Then why are you judging me?”

“I’m
not,” I say quietly.

He
blinks, gazing into my eyes momentarily. “I’d make you beg before I did
anything.” My eyes bulge out and sweep the small cafeteria, afraid someone is
listening. It’s mostly vacant except for the workers wiping down food trays and
tabletops. “You’d beg me to touch you, and when I do, I won’t stop until you
let go and promised me things you thought you never would.”

My
breathing turns ragged as I squeeze the plastic cup, banana pudding plopping on
my hand and sliding down my fingers.

“I’d
tie you down and make you feel things you don’t want to feel, things you never
knew you could feel. You’d love every second of it,” he whispers, grinning
arrogantly.

“Kinky bastard.”

His
grin stretches into a smile and he gives me a wicked wink reserved only for me.

Self-indulgent shithead.

“You’re
sick,” I tease.

“You
say that and, yet,” he says and reaches out to place a palm on my chest, “your
heart is soaring with excitement.” His eyes close, listening and marveling from
my fluttering heart under his scorching palm that threatens to burn right into
my chest. “I’d never
harm
you, though.” I swallow loudly. He drops his
arm and opens his eyes, revealing the quiet storm brewing inside them.

Hunter
is intense multiplied by a billion. I don’t know how to react to some of the
things he does without setting him off. It’s like I’m in love with a ticking
time bomb.

“You
scare me,” I say softly, steadily holding his gaze. “I love you, but you scare
the hell out of me. Have you been diagnosed with split-personality disorder?”
Hero
did tell me that you are seeking help.

He
laughs, loudly and joyously. “What?”

“I’m
dead serious, Hunter. One minute your
super intense
and then sweet and kind
and attentive the next. You’re impulsive and your temperamental mood swings
confuse me and give me whiplash. What am I suppose to do when I don’t know what
do?”

His
smile vanishes and he eyes me for a beat, then takes my hand and brings it to
his mouth. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Isabel. But I guess that you
hold on.” His pink tongue darts out to lap up the pudding from my fingers.

Warm
waves of pleasure and lust ripples throughout my body, I gasp and squeeze my
legs together, trying to gain some kind of friction to relieve the tingling
sensation between my legs.

“My
girl looks hungry and I need to feed her.” He grins, tilting his head to the
double exit doors.

My
breath hitches because he’s not referencing to food. “I want answers.” His grin
broadens, drawing my index finger into his moist mouth and sucking the pad
until I close my eyes and moan, squirming in my seat. Every fiber in my being
tightens. “You can’t manipulate me with sex. I’m stronger than that.”