Hunter (The Bang Shift Book 2) Read online

  “No. That was the anti-venom. This,”–he raised a vial with the needle already in it–“is morphine. It’ll help with the pain.”

  “I want her to have pills for when it wears off,” Hunter said, looking at the doctor through the corner of his eye.

  “Already turned it in. Script’s under your name.”

  Hunter nodded.

  “You’re gonna feel this right away.”

  Maya bit her lip as her face pinched in obvious pain, and Hunter wished more than anything he could take the hurt away with his will alone.

  “God, I hope so,” she said through gritted teeth, but as the seconds ticked by, her breathing slowed and her face became slack. Within a few minutes, she even smiled, and Hunter finally felt relief he hadn’t felt since she’d gotten that damn bite.

  Air whooshed out of his lungs as he looked at Sawyer. “How long does she need to stay?”

  “A few hours. I need to make sure the medicine works, that she doesn’t have any adverse reactions to it.”

  “Thanks, Sawyer, for getting here so fast,” Bear said, bumping the man in the shoulder.

  “No prob. I was out this way anyway.”

  “W-why are you sooo pretty?” Maya slurred, drawing the men’s attention to her. When Hunter realized she was staring right at him, a shocked laugh bubbled up.

  “You’re high.” He shook his head, smiling.

  “Gotta love morphine,” Sawyer said before handing a card over to Hunter. “I need to take care of a few things. Here’s my number if something comes up. I’ll be back in about an hour to check on her.”

  Hunter gave him a short nod and turned his attention back to Maya as Bear walked the doctor to the door, chatting about something. But all too soon, Bear said, “I need to speak with you.”

  Hunter squeezed his eyes shut, mentally preparing for the ass chewing he was about to get, and then stood. “Be right back,” he whispered to Maya.

  He strode past Bear, knowing his boss would follow him out into the hall. When he faced him, Hunter physically braced himself.

  “You’re getting too attached.”

  Okay, that wasn’t what Hunter thought he was going to say. He’d figured Bear would be pissed about Maya getting hurt while on his watch. Or that Hunter had hung up on the man earlier. Not that these other words were much easier to deal with.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You like her.”

  Hunter sighed. Screw it. It didn’t matter if he came clean or not. “So the fuck what? I’m not doing anything about it. I haven’t banged her if that’s what you’re worried about,” he whispered heatedly. “I know protecting her is my job. I’m not going to screw it up.”

  Bear glanced at the door mockingly.

  “Shit. Yeah, I should’ve been watching her better, but it’s not like I let some attacker onto my property. It was a damn snake. The state’s crawling with them.”

  His boss stared at him, and he forced himself not to flinch. Finally, he said, “Don’t make me pull you off this case. Brody is neck deep in wedding planning. Blade is out of the state. That leaves Roc.”

  “The fuck he’s coming anywhere near Maya.” Hunter shook his head. “Hell no.” No one would take this job from Hunter, especially not Roc.

  Bear tapped his fist against Hunter’s arm. “Then don’t force me to make that call. The feds are all over this. It’s not some private gig we got here. I know we’re not working for them, but they’re helping us, which means we have to be on our best behavior. You read me?”

  “Loud and clear.” If Bear even suspected Hunter would act on his feelings, Maya would be out of his house and he’d be back on garage duty.

  Any other case, he might have preferred that. Hell, at times, he would’ve volunteered to switch with someone else. Before today.

  Watching her get bit did something to him. He knew he couldn’t have her. That didn’t change, but the near-paralyzing fear awakened something in him. He couldn’t trust anybody else with her safety. No one. Which meant, no way could he allow himself to give in to what was brewing with her.

  She’s off limits, dude, or you risk more than your job. And he heard himself.

  Loud and clear.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maya had lost track of the days since she’d gotten attacked by a vicious animal.

  Okay, so vicious might be a little strong.

  And she hadn’t been attacked. She’d stepped on a snake, and it protected itself. The truth didn’t help her ego any. Nor did the fact that she’d totally embarrassed herself that afternoon. She’d cried, screamed, whimpered, and passed out like a weakling. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh no, when she screwed up, she did it big time. She’d called Hunter pretty.

  To his face.

  In front of his boss.

  She groaned as she folded a shirt and put it in the dresser she was using in the guest room. Why had she uttered that word? She couldn’t deny the man was sex personified, but she didn’t have to tell him. Gah. Any truce she’d been trying to call the evening she’d been, um, wounded, had completely backfired. Now, instead of Hunter doing the avoiding, it was her turn.

  She’d taken the baton he passed and run with it. She could point out every crack and chipped paint on the walls of this room. Not only had she slept in here, she’d eaten in here, too. The only time she’d ventured into any other part of the house was when Hunter had knocked on her door to let her know he’d be outside in his shop for a while. Then she would slip out and watch some television.

  Sighing, she grabbed the last shirt from the pile of clothes she’d cleaned, folded it, and shoved it into the drawer with the other. All that remained were panties. Rather than deal with them, she waded them up and put them in the bottom drawer. But the lacy black thong she’d worn the night everything turned to chaos taunted her from the top. She snatched them up and stormed toward the bed.

  I wish I’d never met Jake.

  How different her life would be right now if that was the case. She’d be in school—she looked at her watch as she bent down by the nightstand—in psychology, she amended as she pulled out her suitcase with more force than necessary. She didn’t want the reminder of that night, the night that changed everything, so she shoved the panties as far in her bag as she could reach.

  Something cut her finger, and she gasped. “Son of a bitch.”

  She yanked her hand out and inspected her new wound. She couldn’t catch a freaking break. There was a little blood on the tip, so she sucked it as she gently peered in the bag for the culprit.

  The note from Jake.

  She’d gotten a paper cut from it. Jeez, he couldn’t stop hurting her, could he? Well, screw him. She stormed out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. After locking the door behind her, she stared at herself in the mirror and slowly tore the note in half.

  “This is what I think of you, Jake,” she sneered as she tore the pieces again. Then she wadded up the remnants and tossed the note into the trash. She slapped her hands together as if she was finally rid of him and took a deep breath. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

  She still felt irritated, worked up, and really not in the mood for another workout. Glancing up as she turned to leave—to read or something—she saw the tub. A bath. She could take a bath, soak for a while. That would help, and it would occupy her a little bit.

  She dug around the cabinets and found some Epsom salt as the water ran. She poured a generous amount into the tub, swished the water around until dissolved, then stripped. Steam rose, and she inhaled deeply before slowly stepping into the wet haven.

  “Ahh.” She should’ve done this earlier, she thought as she sat, letting the water lap over her. She could stay in here for hours.

  Taking another soothing breath, she eased back even more and shut her eyes. Heaven. Pure and simple.

  She opened her eyes a fraction and glanced at the trashcan. “Good riddance.” Her heavy lids shut on her again, and her breathing slowed as she wen
t boneless in the water, stress floating away as the water sluiced off her body. Within ten minutes, she was so relaxed she didn’t think she could move.

  That was fine. Moving was overrated anyway.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Hunter said as he knocked on the door to the guest room. He’d stayed out in the shop for the better part of the day. Not because he’d wanted to avoid Maya—though she was the one doing most of that lately—but because he’d lost track of time, enjoying the silence of the country as he worked on the Chevelle. When he’d realized how late it was, he washed up in the garage’s tiny bathroom, swung by his bedroom to change shirts, and then started on the pasta. After dinner, he’d take a real shower and try to talk the new recluse into watching a movie or something. He hadn’t wanted to push her to spend time with him, but she had to be bored out of her mind. A little T.V. time wouldn’t hurt anything.

  When Maya didn’t answer, he pounded harder.

  Nothing.

  “Maya?” He jiggled the doorknob in warning that he was coming in before opening the door. Why wasn’t sure answering? “Maya?” he called out just a little louder after stepping into her room.

  He didn’t see her. Frowning, he walked toward the tiny closet, though he knew there was no way she could be in there. He had stuff crammed in it.

  He checked anyway.

  She wasn’t there.

  Panic came swiftly as he cursed and ran out of the room. He knew she wasn’t in the living room because he’d walked through it earlier. She hadn’t been in the kitchen, either. The light coming through the bottom of the bathroom had relief washing over him. “Thank fuck.”

  Knowing it was rude, but not really caring, he knocked on the door. “Maya, you scared the shit out of me. Dinner’s ready.”

  No answer.

  He put his ear to the door and didn’t hear anything, no water running, nothing. He pounded on the door and tried twisting the locked doorknob. “Maya. This isn’t funny.”

  Sudden splashing and violent coughing erupted.

  “Fuck, fuck.” He swiped his hand across the doorjamb, grabbed the key resting on the top, and shoved it in the little keyhole, quickly releasing the lock. The door crashed open as he unnecessarily put his weight against it, stumbling in.

  Maya screamed and grabbed a towel to cover herself as she wheezed.

  “Get out.” She scrambled to get up, but only managed to get her shield soaked as she struggled to right herself in the bathtub.

  Hunter growled and scooped her up. She squeaked as she tried to cover her modesty with the sopping towel. But he dropped her to her feet on the tiny rug before she could spit out an objection.

  “Why were you choking?” he asked right in her face.

  Her checks bloomed. “I was taking a bath and slipped under.”

  She was lying. Her eyes shifted. Why the hell was she lying?

  Maya shoved her palm against his chest. “You had no right barging in here.”

  She was changing the subject. “It didn’t sound like you were having a soothing bath to me.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t.” He clenched her arms. “Don’t you dare lie to me again, woman.”

  His eyes searched hers as he waited, and he watched as the fight slowly drifted out of her. “I think I fell asleep.”

  White-hot fury rushed through him, and it took every ounce of his will not to yell when he said, “You could have drowned.”

  “I-I didn’t mean to. I got so relaxed that it just happened. And the pain pills make me sleepy anyway.”

  Jesus, he hadn’t thought about her being under the influence of narcotics. Taking a bath on medication like that was beyond dangerous. She could have died.

  She quickly covered his mouth with her fingertips. “Don’t say it. I know it was stupid.”

  Very fucking stupid, but all thoughts of her carelessness fled at the sensation of her skin on his lips. He knew she hadn’t meant the touch to be sensual, but that didn’t stop the heat that soared through him and crackle between them in the tiny room. He knew she felt it too by the way her pupils dilated. She gasped, yanking her hand back if he’d burned her.

  He didn’t want her going anywhere.

  Before it even registered to him that he’d moved, Hunter grabbed her delicate wrist, careful not to squeeze too tightly, stopping her retreat.

  He should let her go. He needed to drop her arm and back away from her right now.

  “Hunter,” she breathed. The sound of his name on her lips practically destroying any sanity he was trying to wrangle. He didn’t know if she was voicing a warning or an outright protest. God, he hoped it wasn’t that. He wasn’t sure if he could stop from tasting her again. He would if she didn’t want him to, but damn, every cell in his body screamed to possess her, taste every inch of her body, lick the droplets away until the only moisture left on her was from him.

  She stepped back, and he followed. There was no other choice for him. It was as if they were tethered together.

  “Where are you going?” he rumbled.

  She licked her lips, and he groaned.

  “I–” Her back hit the wall beside the tub.

  “Tell me you don’t want this, that you haven’t thought about me kissing you,” he said, moving closer to her, crowding her, and he lifted his arms, caging her. If she told him to stop, he would. His soul would cry out and ache, but he’d do it.

  For her, he’d do anything.

  He leaned closer, waiting for her answer. Her mouth opened, quivered almost with words that were not coming out. He waited, not-so-patiently, he waited, ever so slightly leaning closer still. When he couldn’t stand it another second, he whispered, “Time’s up,” before his lips crashed to hers. He swallowed her sound of surprise as her hands flattened on his chest. She didn’t push him away, though. Oh hell no, she clutched him to her, and he knew right then she’d be screaming his name before this night was over.

  Grabbing her wet hair, he tilted her head and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Jesus, she tasted sweet, a flavor so unique it was both sweet and strong, like raw honey, and he immediately knew she’d be just as delectable wherever his mouth landed on her.

  Just the thought of how the other parts of her body tasted had him bending slightly at the knees and thrusting between her legs as he continued to ravish her mouth. He hadn’t consciously commanded his body to do so, but he knew all mental control was gone anyway. He groaned into her mouth at the contact. It felt so good he did it again and again, the intensity increasing, the pace quickly spiraling out of control. It was fast becoming not enough.

  “I need inside you,” he said between kisses. He needed it more than he needed the air to breathe or the sun to shine. He grabbed her leg, hiked it over his hip, and pushed against her again, the angle providing even sharper contact. His mouth landed on her neck. He needed to taste her somewhere. Anywhere.

  She whimpered, “Please.” And Jesus Christ, he almost lost it then. He slammed his mouth down on hers, partly to keep her from uttering anymore words that’d have him finishing before they even started.

  The towel fell or he yanked it down. He didn’t know which. He didn’t fucking care. His belt and pants were his next targets, needing to release his pounding cock. He was so hard it hurt, and he hissed when he was finally free.

  She was naked, wet, and he was fully dressed. He couldn’t remember another time when he hadn’t had the patience to rid himself of his clothes, but there was a certain sexiness to the dynamic.

  When she tore her mouth away, gulping in air, he still couldn’t take his lips off her. He kissed down neck again, this time finding a sensitive spot behind her ear that made her shiver. Her moan only fueled him, set him on fire, delirious to wring every sound he could from her, vowing he’d never try stifling them again.

  He couldn’t even slow himself down enough to take in the sight of her body. He’d have to look more thoroughly later. Right now, he’d explore her in other ways.

  His hand foun
d one breast as his mouth descended on the other. And if he’d never known heaven before, he surely did now.

  “Hunter,” she whispered as she grabbed his head, urging him on. He didn’t need the encouragement, but he loved feeling her hand in his hair. He drew on her nipple while lightly pinching and tugging the other. She came up on her toes, beautifully whispered begs falling from her lips.

  “God, your taste,” he muttered against her skin after releasing her and trekking south, kissing and nipping at her ribs, her bellybutton, until he reached her mound. She trembled as he rubbed his nose along the small patch of curls, waiting.

  She didn’t have to wait long. Without warning, he grabbed her knee, threw her leg over his shoulder, and buried his face in her pussy. He knew he should have teased her, made her want it until she was mindless of anything else but what heights of passion he could give her, but he was so lost in her essence, her flavor, that he could do nothing but devour her. He licked, sucked, and stabbed his tongue into her. She squirmed, practically vibrating with need, and he had to place a hand on her tummy to keep her from losing her balance.

  He had more important things to do with the other one.

  His free hand slipped between her legs, and he allowed one finger to penetrate her. Just one. It was all he needed. Crooking his finger, he rubbed the spot behind her clit from within as his mouth circled it and his tongue batted relentlessly against the hard nub.

  “Oh my god. Oh my god,” she began to chant as her hand fisted painfully in his hair, only able to grab pieces of it since it was so short. But within seconds, the words coming from her mouth became incoherent as she screamed, her pussy fisting around his finger. Feeling her cream on his hand was one of the most glorious things he’d ever felt in his life, but he knew that was about to change.

  Waiting for her to come down was torture, but somehow, he managed to find the strength. When she was panting and going limp, he scooped her into his arms.

  No protest came from her as he whisked her down the hall and into his bedroom.