Emma clenched her hands, her stomach dropping and her mouth going dry. She was already wet, and had been the moment the two had been alone in the kitchen with Jackson squared off safely behind the closed door. “I’m doing… I mean,” she cleared her throat and turned around to busy herself with stacking the plates. When she saw they were already stacked, she fisted her hands and simply stared off into the darkness through the tiny kitchen window she had. “I’m not doing anything so… I’m not doing that.”
“Lost your nerve?”
She turned back to see him watching her from the stovetop. He had a cocky smirk hinting at the edges of his lips, and his eyes were watching her languidly. There wasn’t a morsel of tension in his body.
He looked calm, in control and at ease.
How?
“I’m already in deep waters with that detective.”
“What’d you do?”
“He asked about why I do your errands and I made up some garbage.”
“We don’t have that much time, so talk while you undress.”
Her words got caught at her throat, and she gaped at him. “No.”
He bit his lip, savoring the motion, and nudged his chin up at her, “go on, shirt first.” “He knew I was lying, and he’s going to grill me about you, again. He already thinks it’s weird that we’re close and I’m pretty sure he’s suspicious.”
He cut her off, “shirt.”
Feeling breathless, she grinded her teeth and glared at him. Adrenaline had kicked in two-fold, drugging her blood. She felt all kinds of out-of-sorts as she stared at him in her kitchen. He dominated the room, filling the small, dingy space with his energy. Never in a million years did she envisage for Hunter Stone to be standing in her father’s kitchen, ordering her to undress. She was pretty sure her dad was rolling over in his grave.
He enjoyed watching her squirm. With an electric kick to her heart, she realized he didn’t think she’d do it. He wanted to make her uncomfortable, remind her who was in charge. This was his payback for what she’d done in the office.
Nuh-uh. Two could play at this game.
Squaring her eyes. And taking a quick breath, she lowered her gaze and slowly picked at the edges of her shirt. Confidently, without skipping a beat, she pulled it off and made sure to stretch the small of her back as she pulled it over her bra and head.
His eyes were on fire as she dropped it to the ground. The small smirk was gone when she looked back at him.
She nudged at this time, “your turn.”
His jaw flexed, but sure enough, she’d pulled at the strings of his ego and he wasn’t going to call his own bluff. With a slight hint of resignation, he straightened himself and began to unbutton his top. “Why didn’t you just tell him the truth?” The bastard was wearing another shirt underneath his buttonup, and she narrowed her eyes at that. “That I fixed your car and you’re paying me back in kind?” he threw his shirt off to the side, “Pants.”
“Because,” Emma didn’t break eye contact as she popped the button of her jeans and shimmied her legs out of them. Her heart was pounding, but she was making sure to maintain a steady flow of even breaths in and out of her lungs. “I wasn’t thinking.” She sort of felt like she wasn’t thinking now. When her pants came off, she was literally standing there wearing only a pair of panties, a bra and fuzzy green socks with candy canes all over them. Even though her main ‘parts’ were covered, she’d never felt so naked in her life. The kitchen lights suddenly felt as if they were blaringly bright, casting light on all her imperfections. The fact that her tummy was a little bit softer than she liked it to be, that her butt was not as round as it could’ve been if she’d just committed to those extra squats at the gym, and that she had stretch marks on the edges of her breasts from the time she’d gone through puberty at age fucking twelve. Her voice was small, but it was steady. “You had an unfair advantage. You’re wearing more layers.”
He took off the second shirt, and she tried not to react as she got a good look at his chest. Fuck him. That wasn’t fair. Here she was trying not to think about how she felt like the Pillsbury dough boy and there he was. His chest was smooth despite a light smattering of hair across his chest and his abs were so clearly defined that she could probably scrub her dirty clothes on them. Confidence oozed in every tendon and muscle of his body. This was a man who enjoyed his body, and reveled in his strength.
“Bra.”
She swear they’d been talking about something else. Hadn’t they? She couldn’t remember shit right now. She was painfully aware of the noise of the TV mumbling on the other side of the wall, that her underwear was already soaked, and that goosebumps had scattered all over her arms. She reached back and unclasped the flimsy article of lingerie and let it drop to the ground.
She blushed as he didn’t hide the hunger in his gaze, and she could feel him taking in every part of her body. Did he have to look at her that way? Like she was red riding hood and he was the big, bad wolf.
She swallowed in trepidation as he came to her then, and she opened her mouth to tell him that it was his turn to take off his pants but the words dried up on her tongue the moment he settled himself in front of her.
His hand came around her throat, and he grasped her lightly. Firm enough so that she could feel the pulse of her heartbeat against his fingers but not so harshly that she couldn’t breathe. Pulling her head back, he kissed the breadth of her neck before leaving a harsh, sharp bite on her shoulder. She gasped, and then bit her bottom lip when he roughly hoisted her up to the counter and pulled her panties down to her knees.
She’d only just begun to protest, as the fear of Jackson walking in suddenly slammed into her, when his fingers found her clit. She let out a strangled moan, that he silenced immediately by a rough tug of her hair. “Stay quiet,” he said as he worked his fingers around her. “Fuck. How are you so wet already?” he murmured in her ear, before nipping at her earlobe. “I haven’t even kissed you yet.” Her face burned, and she refused to respond. What did he want here? For her to openly admit that she found him drop dead sexy?
Maintaining a firm, circular motion on her clit that was causing all sorts of delicious, hot, friction, he thrust a finger into her that made her gasp again.
“I asked you a question,” he repeated, this time forcing her to look at him, “answer me.” “Because,” was all she managed to say, her skin flushed and hot. He hadn’t waited long before thrusting a second finger inside her and she let her head fall backwards at the pleasure. He was pushing his fingers upwards, and moving them in small circles inside of her. It felt so intrusive and new, but she found herself opening her legs wider so he could go in deeper.
“Because what?” He stilled his hands, and she clenched her fists at the sudden loss of movements. “Spell it out for me.”
“Because I want you.”
“Want me to what?” He started again slowly… maddeningly slowly.
“You know what.”
“Enlighten me.”
She groaned quietly, feeling like she was burning. His fingers were driving her fucking nuts, and she could feel how wet she was against her thighs. She was literally dripping. How did he have the power to do this? “I want you to…”
“Say it.”
“Fuck me,” she cleared her throat and made her voice firmer, “I want you to fuck me.”
“And that’s it?”
He pulled out his fingers and brought them to her mouth. She opened her lips and with a shy glance up at him, she took in the two fingers that had, just moments ago, been buried deep inside her. She sucked on his fingers, feeling the taste of herself on him. Never having done this before, she was surprised to find that she was enjoying every second of it, and his authoritative dominance only turned her on even more. Her body, hearing the sound of his other hand working on unbuckling his own belt, felt alive.
She heard the sound of his pants fall to the floor, and she moaned around his fingers as he pulled out his member, and immediately pushed it against her. He was already thick and ready and she closed her eyes as he rubbed it against her wet cunt.
“How do you want me to fuck you?” His voice was gentle but assertive and his tone brought her out of her daze. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth to replace them with his lips. He kissed her briefly, very briefly, and she found herself straining to deepen the kiss. He had already pulled back, however, not giving her what she wanted, and was looking down at her expectantly.
Her inhibitions had peaced royally out of the window. “I want you to fuck me hard.”
“But weren’t you just complaining about Jackson being in the room beside us?” He was teasing her now, enjoying every second of it.
“Hunter,” she snapped, wanting to scratch, hit, and pound the arrogance out of him. “Just fuck me already.”
“On one condition.”
She whimpered, “What is it?”
“You will never, ever, come into my office and do that again,” he pushed the tip of his head inside her and she arched her back, mouth open. He watched her closely, his face serious. “You understand me?”
“You loved every minute of it,” she whispered as he pushed an inch deeper, her eyes lidded as she reveled in every inch of herself being stretched.
He stilled, “I said, do you understand me?”
“I get it, I get it,” she muttered. It was as if he’d been dying to hear her say those words because the moment she did, his other hand came and covered her mouth as he pushed into her hard, bottoming out with one, deep thrust.
Her cry got lost her in his hand, and she was grateful for the gag since it muffled her moan. He gathered her waist closer to his hips and he quickened his pace. His thrusts were unforgiving, deep, and fast, and she found herself clawing into his shoulders as he began to fuck her.
She was pretty sure this was the countertop that she’d helped her mom roll cookie dough on twelve years prior.
The two, attempting to stay as quiet as possible, were pretty shit at it. She was pretty sure she heard something clatter to the ground, the salt spilled when she levied a hand out to steady herself, and the sound of his dick slamming into her was something they couldn’t muffle. Feeling weak in the knees, belly, and arms, she leaned her torso back to rest on her arms and then cried out as the position only deepened him further into her.
“Shh,” he hissed, moving one hand over her torso, caressing her skin until his fingers found her clit again.
She didn’t last long. Maybe it was because of the situation, the fact that the door was literally unlocked and she was being pounded by a man who couldn’t get enough of her, or because she’d been thinking about this for so long, but the moment he began to tease her clit again – she was done. “Hunter -.” She barely got the words out before she began to orgasm and sensing her body tense up before its release, he slowed down to allow her some reprieve.
Only for a few seconds. Feeling her body convulse and strain around his, he leaned forward and quickened his pace. His chest and back glistened from a thin sheen of sweat and she hazily noticed that it looked like he was still exhibiting some sort of control or restraint.
When he came, he pulled out seconds before, to spill all over her stomach.
x.x
“This is fantastic,” Jackson said around a mouthful of steak. Flames were crackling in the fireplace behind them, casting the living and dining room area in a soft, warm glow. Snow was falling again outside, the gentle sound of flakes falling setting a calm ambience around the room.
She was sitting across from Hunter, and she couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Thanks. Family recipe,” he said as if literally nothing had fucking happened. If not for the slight displacement of his usually perfect hair, it was as if he’d just woken up from a nap or something. “What’re your thoughts?” he directed at her, and from the way he looked at her, she felt as if he wanted to eat her alive.
"It’s good. Haven’t had a home cooked meal in a while,” she replied honestly. She wished she had more wine, maybe even ten more bottles, because she needed something to calm the heady adrenaline that was coursing through her. She’d spent a good five minutes cleaning herself up as he set the table outside, shakily putting her clothes back on as Hunter and Jackson laughed to some small talk in the dining room. She still wasn’t fully composed, and she kept rubbing the small of her shoulder where he’d given her a sharp bite. She needed to make sure she hadn’t bruised.
“See, Emma. One of the benefits of moving to a small town. People actually care about each other,” Jackson said as he cut another piece. She couldn’t tell if there was a double-edged meaning to his words, if he was fishing or if he was being sincere. She was paranoid as fuck these days. “Do police officers in California even have time to get to know their citizens? I swear, that state has one of the highest crime rates in America. I feel like a lot of people at your age hate the idea of moving to a small town, but I always tell my children there’s a sense of belonging you can find here that you won’t find anywhere else.”
She was so distracted by Hunter’s existence that she had to focus to understand what Jackson was even saying, “...yup.” Was all she said.
“Newcastle’s the same. If one of our own is in danger, the entire town comes together to make sure nothing happens to them.”
She didn’t know if she wanted to point out that in her case, the town was pretty much against her. Seeing as she was having a hard time concentrating, and kept blushing whenever she saw Hunter looking at her, she kept words to a minimum. “Thanks.”
Jackson went into some long-winded conversation about his one experience in California, and Emma listened quietly, not really paying attention. She was too distracted by how she could still feel him inside of her, and that her body felt electrified by his presence. How did one man have the ability to do this to a woman? She felt drugged and it aggravated her to see him looking so calm. That was not fair.
She wanted to shake him by the shoulders, and force him to admit that he was as rattled as she was.
Ugh.
Eventually, the conversation moved on to the case, and she listened intently to Jackson and Hunter talk about the evidence that they had collected, the lack of DNA on the scene (forensics had turned up nothing), and lack of remorse they’d seen in any of their suspects.
Basically, the entire town was acting abnormally normal. Everyone they’d interviewed so far had had an alibi, nobody had seen anything suspicious, or heard anything out of the ordinary. Basically, whoever this killer had been, he’d been a ghost.
Emma felt her spirits falling the more they spoke about it. It wasn’t that she was feeling any less safe. She was constantly on edge these days. It was that it was dawning on her that whoever this person, not only did they have a vendetta against her, they were smart about it too. Nobody had seen or heard a thing. She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear nervously. Moving forward, she needed to carry some sort of weapon around with her. She didn’t want to disappear into the night like a passing shadow.
Towards the end of their dinner, just as they’d begun to clear the table, the doorbell rang and it was as if the entire table froze. Before she even had the chance to put her napkin down on the table, Hunter and Jackson were off the table and by the door in seconds. Hunter’s hand was on his holster, and he was motioning something to Jackson.
She watched in stunned silence as they calmly told her to stay back, and Jackson pulled out his transponder.
“We have the doorbell ringing here. Can we confirm identity?”
She heard static come from the small electrical mouthpiece, before the police officer on the other side responded.
“Cleared. Emma’s friends.”
Hunter and Jackson relaxed but Emma nearly fell off her seat. Friends? What friends?? Hunter opened the door and a small smile graced her lips as Kat and Clayton stood on the other side. From her viewpoint, she could see Kat was holding a few beers while Clayton was holding onto a bottle of rum.
She could also see the pure shock and discomfort that graced their faces at the sight of two police officers staring at them.
“Uh… sorry to crash the police party.” Kat finally said, her eyes glimpsing inside and Emma could see the girl wanted to laugh.
Jackson waved them off, “we were just discussing some things, but we were getting ready to leave.”
Clayton limped in on his crutches, followed closely by Kat and another two people that Emma didn’t recognize.
“Partying on a Monday night?” Hunter sounded so much like a dad there that Emma almost burst out laughing. She could see the judgement seeping through his stiffy demeanor.
Kat was rolling her eyes, “six feet of snow is expected to fall tonight. There’s no way we’re doing anything tomorrow.”
“We tried to call you Em, but then we all realized none of us have your number. That’s Jason, my brother and that’s Adrian – Kat’s… friend,” AKA sleeping buddy. Clayton put the rum on the ground as the other two came in with more alcohol, booze and snacks. “Hope its okay we just crashed your house.”
“Uh…” she glanced at Hunter and noticed he didn’t look entirely too impressed. Whatever. “Yeah, sure.” She assumed she was the only one who didn’t live with her parents, and she finally stood up to wave them in. “Come in and make yourselves at home.”
Jackson and Hunter took that as a cue to leave, and she tried to act normal as Hunter came around to pick up his things. The arrival of Clayton and Kat, and also Jackson’s presence pretty much ensured that Hunter wouldn’t be sleeping over tonight. Which was probably a good thing. Because she was already dying for round two, and three, and four – and she needed to make sure that these sexual encounters stopped because not only had they thrown their officer-client relationship to the dust and flames, but her head was getting muddied with unexpected bouts of tenderness and affection for him.
Basically, she was thinking and feeling a whole lot of things she didn’t want to come to terms with yet. “Behave,” he muttered as he walked past her, and she knew exactly what he was referring to. Clayton, for some reason or the other, got on Hunter’s sore side. Knowing him, he would never admit that out loud.
Both Jackson and Hunter were gone a few minutes later, and Emma locked the door behind them. When she turned back, Kat was already hooking her phone up to a set of speakers they had brought it and had cranked up the music. Clayton was pouring shots and Adrian came over with a goofy grin, offering her a bottle of beer.
This was so not her element, and she felt like her entire evening – and day, rather – had been cast in some sort of twilight zone. What was her life becoming? She’d just had sex with Hunter in the kitchen an hour ago, and now she was partying with… friends? In Harbordale?
She felt the barriers inside of her break a little and she accepted the beer graciously. Fuck it. Someone was out there wanting to kill her. She’d been dying for a drink, and it was time to forget about her worries for a while.
x.x
When she woke up in her bathtub ten hours later with Kat throwing up in the toilet beside her, she whole-heartedly regretted that decision.
A/N: I’m off to spend a week in a cabin in the middle of the woods, literally. Hopefully I’ll get some chapters written there. Love your feedback, so let me know if you have any suggestions. One of yous had suggested Emma should get pregnant… considering she’s 22 and already has the weight of the world on her shoulders… lets scratch that off our possible scenario list for now! Haha.