The Hunted (17 page)

“
I
finally get
to see you?” Ivy’s squeal is deafening through the phone.

“Yeah.” I straighten the hem of my dress and check my hair in the mirror.

“Okay, I got the directions and will be there around noon for lunch.”

“Perfecto, chica. Oh and, Ivy, no Gannon.”

“I won’t. We need a girl’s date anyway.”

“See you soon! Later, lover bug.” I end the call and apply a light layer of pink lip gloss. It’s my third day at the gallery, and I’m absolutely in love with it. It’s urban and trendy with fresh pieces decorating the whole place from sculptures to canvases. So far no one is nosy or really seems to care about your business because they’re all elbow deep in art. Right now, I’m just answering calls and filing older pieces.

Telsa, the owner, has reassured me that when I learn the ropes, I’ll have time to paint. My breath was taken away the day I stepped foot into the gallery because the piece I first painted of Van was front and center–the abstract one when I was comparing his darkness to Gannon’s light.

I shake my head in the reflection of the mirror, realizing that Gannon and I never had a chance of making it. No one stood a chance with Van in my life.

“You ready?” His deep voice echoes around in the living room. “I need to run out to the club before I go to Stew’s.”

It’s been torture letting him go to the strip joint every single night, but the funny thing is, his shift has morphed more into a late afternoon one. He makes it home around seven or eight and then we cuddle, eat, and have glorious sex. It almost feels normal, well until the club calls him out. And it’s only been three whole days. I’ve found the element of time to be sweet with Van cherishing each and every single moment with him.

“I’m ready, Daddy.” I round the corner into the living to spot him sprawled out on the couch studying his phone.

When he gazes up at me his expression goes dark. “Oh, I’ve got your daddy.”

“Stop, I’ll be late and you’ve had enough of me this morning.”

“There’s never enough of you, Junior.” He slowly gets up from the couch, pulling on each of his white Cons.

“Something wrong?” I urge, stepping closer until I’m nestled between his legs with his head on my stomach. I know it’s dangerous to touch him without us getting out of control.

“Just reading the fucking news. It’s sick, Bay. More deaths and shit.”

My hands rub large lazy circles on his back while I remain silent.

“That detective tried to make you think I did this shit, huh?”

His words sting my heart, but I refuse to lie to him. “He tried to, Van.”

“Why did you even let me in?”

My hands urge his shoulders back until he’s resting on the couch. I straddle him and wait until he looks at me. “Because you’re my Big Bad Wolf.”

“How many times have you thought it was me?” he pleads.

“You scared me in the beginning and then when you started answering questions I knew it wasn’t you.” My palms run over the scruff of his face. “I couldn’t help falling in love with you.”

“I don’t think they’re connected.”

“What?” I cock my head to the side.

“The murders.”

“Why?”

“Instinct, evidence. But the ones getting closer to us make me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Bay, someone set me up once and I fear they’re going to do it again.”

“Who?”

“Argo,” he grits out between his teeth.

“He’s gone, baby, at a treatment place.”

“I don’t buy that bullshit.”

“Let’s just run away together,” I urge.

“Babe, I’m thinking going to live with your mother and smoking a bowl daily with her sounds better each minute.”

“You just want to see her titties again,” I joke and hop up from his lap.

Just a slight grin forms on his lips, not the typical laughter or joy. His heart is heavy and he’s deep in thought. Van has a cigarette lit before he locks the door behind him. He signals to his car with his finger.

“Not walking today?”

“I’m in a hurry, Junior.” He leaves a stinging slap on my ass.

“Are you okay, Van?”

He nods, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I’m getting the protection from the club. They owe me. I’m leaving nothing to chance.”

“How will they protect us?” I pause and add to my question. “Or do I want to know?”

“Extra eyes on you watching and protecting. Also, getting to the bottom of who originally set me up and if they’re trying to do it again.”

“And you think it was Argo?”

“Had to have been the first time.”

We both settle into the Challenger and have to talk a bit louder over the roar of the engine.

“Just because he’s evil doesn’t mean he’d frame you.”

Van only nods with his jaw still clenched. I hate leaving him when he’s this tense and broody.

“I’ll be careful.” I cover the top of his hand resting on the gearshift. “I love you, Van Hollis.”

His jaw tenses up even more with those words, and I know it’s because they’re so foreign to him. I doubt I’ll ever get used to his driving, the way he rounds the corners, causing the wheels to squeal at each stop light. I reach over and kiss his cheek, cupping the other side of his face.

“You’re not the bad guy,” I whisper into his stubble. “Look at all you’ve given me.”

I get a grunt from him.

“I’ll love you until the day I die and remind you each of those days that you’re not a bad guy.” It’s the dead cold truth.

He turns his face slightly towards me, pecks my forehead, and mumbles. “Thanks, Junior.”

I don’t move from him but decide to switch the mood in the car. “I am going to lunch with Ivy today, but then I’ll be back to work.”

“I don’t like you going out.”

“Too bad plus it’s the good part of town and the little deli is within walking distance.”

“Fuck, Bay.” He grimaces.

“You can’t babysit me, babe.”

“If anything happens to you…” His knuckles go pale white from gripping the steering wheel.

“It won’t.” I pat his abs. “You can be my Big Bad Wolf but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“You are too fucking innocent.” He whips the beast into a parking spot on the side of the gallery, and before I know it, he has me in his lap facing him.

“My ass is going to honk the horn.” I giggle.

He slides his seat back. Van’s hands work fast, pushing my panties to the side underneath my skirt and then settling me on top of him. I cry out a moan as he forces my hips down onto him. He had me hypnotized with his stare and the pain painting his face, I hadn’t even noticed he had freed his cock.

A garbled mix of moans and cries of pain escapes me. Van fingers dig into the sides of my hips, forcing me down harder and faster onto him.

“You are mine, Bay.” He grits out between each thrust into me. “And if anyone dare harms a fucking hair on your head, I’ll kill the fucker.”

He’s in so much turmoil my heart shatters in pain more so than his death grip on my hips. I cup his cheeks with my hands, dropping my forehead to his, and let him own me. Handing over this moment of possession filled with pain, fear, and love to him. Van Hollis claims every single part of me.

His grip never loosens nor do his powerful thrusts up into me. It’s beauty from head to toe as he works himself in and out of me and each time it’s a silent promise of protection and love forever. My hips finally begin to move with his finding the perfect combination of friction.

Van’s emotions overpowered everything until now. My core is knotted beyond belief with building anticipation of a release. I move faster on him grinding my center against the base of him. Several tiny sparks begin to fly, as my pending orgasm grows larger and fiercer.

Whatever this fucked up situation is that’s going down right now in public in the front seat of his car, I don’t want this to end. I never want it to end. Even the smell lingering in the cab is sexy as fuck.

I slow my hips holding off my release. Van does the same thing as his hands roam up my side and then dance in my loose curls. His fingers are always playing with my hair curling and uncurling the natural ringlets.

In a quick movement, I pluck his hat from his head and place it on mine backwards just like he always wears his. I’m always the safe one when making love or rabid fucking like we are doing now, but not this time. The hem of my shirt dances up my tummy and then up and over my breasts.

“You’re not wearing a bra?” Van’s eyes go huge.

I shake my head side to side. “I planned on painting a large canvas today and wanted to be comfy.”

I can barely finish the sentence before a moan escapes me. My hands plant down on his chest steadying myself. It’s a struggle not to give in to my pleasure.

“These are yours.” I glance down at both of my budded nipples standing to attention. “Show them some love.”

He doesn’t waste any time leaning forward and taking a nipple between his teeth, biting down with vigor. I scream out and instantly begin fucking him. Van sits still below me with only his fingers twining and untwining my curls. It doesn’t take long before we are spilling all over each other. Grunts and moans fill the cab of the car until I melt onto him.

Van tugs gently on my clothes until they’re all back in place or as close as they can be with me lying on his chest.

“My panties are soaked,” I mumble into his chest.

“Good, I want you feeling me the rest of the day.” He squeezes both of my ass cheeks with his large palms.

“Mmmmmm. Your scent will be lingering on me too.” I shake my head at how wild and crazy this man makes me.

Rising up just enough, I plant a kiss on his lips. Van catches my lower lip, sinking his teeth into it until my eyes pop wide open, and he winks back at me.

“I don’t want to go to work now.” My lips brush his with each syllable.

“Off you go, Junior.” He gently sets me back on my seat. It’s an insane whirlwind from just seeing him so dark moments ago and then back to the typical Van.

I straighten my skirt when I stand up from the car and check my ass for any wet spots and then lean back in, snagging my purse.

“Hat.”

“Huh?” I crane my neck, studying his face.

Van holds out his hand. “My hat, even though you look sexy as fuck in it.”

“Oh shit.” I pluck it from my head and toss it towards him.

“You’re wearing it every time we fuck from now on, Junior.”

“Deal,” I reply. “Miss you already, Van. Have a good day.”

“Off to screw whores and slay kitties,” he jokes while adjusting his hat on his head.

“Ass.”

“Hey, it’s a tough job but someone has to get the job done.”

“Be safe.” I force myself to shut the door and step back.

The roar of his engine rattles the windows of different storefronts while sending a thrilling tingle back between my legs. That man owns me.

The hours fly by and before I know it, it’s time to meet Ivy. I’m covered in yellow paint. I try scrubbing most of it off before bouncing out onto the sidewalk. I may have fibbed just a tiny bit to Van. The deli is about four blocks away from the gallery. The walk, brisk air, and their fresh mozzarella are so damn worth it.

I spot Ivy’s bright blonde hair well before I see the sign to the deli. A cop car slowing down next to me steals all my attention. My heart speeds up and my legs go rubbery when the car stops next to me. I look over to an unfamiliar officer with one elbow perched out of his window.

“Ma’am we’re looking for a red Ford Escort. Have you happened to notice one while out on your walk?”

“No,” I mutter.

“Please call the authorities if you happen to spot one before returning to the gallery.”

“Okay.”

I don’t wait for any further information before kicking it into high gear towards the deli. When the taillights of the cop car go out of view, I let out a long breath of air. My shoulders sag in relief and my legs steady a bit under me.

How did he know I worked at the gallery?

I’m not left much time to process any of it before a hurricane of blonde hair has me wrapped up tight in a hug.

“Oh, my God, I’ve missed you so damn much, Bay.”

Her voice is music to my damn heart. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I had no idea I’ve missed her this damn much.

“You look good. Really good like freshly fucked good,” she says, taking a step back eyeing me up and down.

Leave it to Ivy to pick up on that little piece of information.

“Let’s go order. We only have forty-five minutes to catch up.” I swat at her ass as we enter the tiny deli. A sweet basil scent lingers in the air. My stomach protests in hunger.

And like any other time we go out, Ivy goes to the counter to order, and I secure us a booth. Years could pass between us, and we wouldn’t miss a beat and that fact makes me smile. Happiness doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel with everything in my life. It’s my very own wrecked masterpiece.

“I couldn’t smack that shit eating grin of your face if I tried.” Ivy plops down opposite of me, passing me a steaming cup of tea.

“I’ve missed you, Ivy.” My words are quiet as embarrassment creeps in when I realize just how much I’ve shut my best friend out of my life.

She clutches one of my hands in hers. “I’ll forgive you, skank, and only because it looks like you’re kicking ass at the game of life.”

“I am.” I shock myself when I don’t shy away from her compliment.

“So, spill because I have news as well.”

“I’m working at an art gallery. You should come by after lunch. They even want to put one of my paintings in an upcoming auction.”

“Bay,” she interrupts. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” I nod my head and cup my teacup in front of my chest. “I’m just not sure if I want to sell it.”

“Why?” she asks.

“One, what if it doesn’t sell that would be a bit embarrassing and two, it means a lot to me.”

“Well, what is it?”

I don’t even know where to start.

“It’s of a really good friend…” I trail off.

“I see this isn’t getting anywhere.” She props up on her elbows, leaning closer to me. “So, who has been tickling your pussy?”

Tea from my mouth sputters out onto the countertop. “You are freaking sick in the head.”