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Taking Him (Lies We Tell)(27)

By:Jackie Ashenden




Ellie turned her head into Hunter’s neck, keeping her legs locked around his waist, her hands pressed flat to his back, holding onto him tightly as shudders racked his body. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking either, the aftershocks of her own orgasm still pulsing through her.

She’d always imagined making love with Hunter would be intense. But that had been more than she could ever possibly have imagined.

There had been no detachment. No distance. When he’d looked at her, she’d known it truly was her he saw, not some other woman instead. She’d thought at first he’d be demanding and had been almost craving that part, her body aching and hungry for him. And yet, when they’d gotten upstairs he’d been…gentle. A bit hesitant. Almost as if he’d been nervous, which was weird because he’d never been like that before.

Ellie closed her eyes, running her hands down the muscular expanse of his back, his skin oiled with sweat, smooth and slick. She loved the heavy weight of him resting on her, pinning her down, holding her to the earth like an anchor. He was breathing fast and hard, and when she brushed her mouth over the damp skin of his neck, she felt the shiver go through him. And she loved that too.

She licked his shoulder, tasting salt, and his breathing hitched. Then, after a moment, he shifted, his weight easing as he gently untangled her arms and legs from around him, slipping free from her body and moving away.

It left her feeling cold, like once again he was retreating from her. Ellie rolled over, stretched out a hand. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not.” He sat up next to her, one hand running through his short black hair.

The moon through the windows fell on his tattoo, the graceful black lines of it sharply delineated in the light, and as he moved his hand the wings flexed as if in preparation for flight. Ellie gave in to temptation and put a hand on his back, running her fingers over the feathers inked onto his skin. He went still, his muscles tight.

She frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Same old response. Same old lie. He didn’t turn. Didn’t look at her. Just sat there with his back to her, his body tense as a wound spring.

She dropped her hand, her throat clogging with stupid hurt. Physically he was here but emotionally he’d gone. A door shutting in her face. Again.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” she said. “You’re thinking of her. Wishing she was here, not me.”

Slowly he turned around, dark brows drawn together. “What?”

“That other woman. And don’t lie, Hunter, I can see it in your eyes.”

His gaze was opaque as obsidian. And she couldn’t stand it anymore. Couldn’t bear his distance, especially after the heat and the intensity of the sex they’d had.

She turned and slipped off the bed.

“Ellie? Where the hell are you going?”

But she ignored him, not saying a word. Shit, two could play at the silence game. Her dresses were on the floor downstairs, so she grabbed the sheet off the bed instead, wrapping it around her then walking straight out of the bedroom.

“Dammit, Ellie!”

Behind her she heard movement but she didn’t wait, hurrying down the hall toward her own room, blinking back yet more freaking tears as she did so. Jesus Christ, she was so damn sick of hoping and praying for more and yet getting silence. It hurt. It hurt too damn much.

He pulled hard on the end of the sheet that was trailing along behind her, jerking her to a stop. She tried to pull back but there was another sharp tug, making her stumble, warm fingers curling around her upper arms, holding her tightly.

“For fuck’s sake, stop,” Hunter said roughly in her ear.

His body up against her spine felt hot and all she wanted to do was lean against him, melt into him. But she wouldn’t. She felt too raw, too vulnerable. And this only-so-close-and-no-farther dance he led her on was making her too unhappy.

“Why?” Ellie wrenched herself away from him and turned round. “What’s the point? If you want more sex then go find whoever it is you keep thinking—”

“I’m not thinking about anyone,” Hunter cut her off roughly. His eyes glittered in the light, a strange, almost desperate look on his face. He ran a hand over his head again in a restless movement. “At least not in the way you’re imagining.”

Ellie pulled the sheet tighter around herself. “Then why did you let me believe that you were? Or is that another bloody lie?”

“I’m not lying and I didn’t let you believe anything.”

“Bullshit!” She stepped up close to him, staring up into his face, trembling and unable to stop. “You said you were going to prove you wanted me, but all you did was fuck me then turn away like I meant nothing!” She swallowed back the tears. “I don’t want to be nothing to you, Hunter. I don’t want the door shut in my face all the time. Making love to you was the most intense, incredible experience of my life, and I wanted it to be that way for you too. But if it wasn’t, if I was a substitute for someone—”

“You’re not a substitute! I’ve never done that before with anyone.”

“What?” She blinked at him, not understanding. “You’ve never done what before?”

“I’ve never had sex before.”

The words didn’t make any sense. She searched his face for some clues as to what the hell he was talking about. “But… You must have…” She stopped. Because when his hand rose to his head yet again, it was shaking. Her heart constricted and when he spoke it constricted even more.

“No.” His voice was thick. “I haven’t.”

The world tilted on its axis, her brain struggling to catch up with what he was saying. “You’re…you were a virgin?”

He gave a harsh laugh. “Okay, sure, why not tell it like it is? Yeah, technically, I was a virgin.”

“But you’ve had lovers. I know you have. I’ve heard you talking to Vin and—”

“I’ve had lovers.” His hand dropped, still shaking. “I never screwed any of them.”

“But they never said you didn’t…”

“Why do you think that hooker knew me? Hookers are easier. They never ask me any fucking questions.”

Oh God, back in his bed, his nervousness, his hesitations, the way he’d held her, the sound he’d made as he’d entered her… His first time. Ellie’s throat closed. She hugged the sheet tighter around herself, so she didn’t go to him and put her arms around him, his distress so obvious she could hardly bear it. But the look in his eyes made her stay where she was. Defensive anger burned there, a simmering heat that was almost palpable.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why should I? What difference would it have made?”

Ellie felt her heart break a little inside her chest. “It would have made a difference to me.”

“Well, it shouldn’t.”

A fraught silence descended.

He didn’t say anything, standing so tall and powerful in the hallway. He was completely naked, so beautiful. The kind of man women threw themselves at all the time. Why had he never gone all the way with any of them?

A sudden, horrible thought occurred to her.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “Were you saving yourself for her? Is that why you never did anything with any of them?”

“Saving myself?” He said the words as if they were dirty. “Fuck no.”

“Then why?” It was getting to be too much. The silence, the unanswered questions, the secrets, the distance. The way he kept giving her the tiniest pieces of himself, crumbs to keep her hanging on. The tattoo. The hooker. The weird dynamic going on with his family. The virginity. Small glimpses of things that made up who he was and yet never revealing the whole. “Why haven’t you slept with anyone else? And why did you sleep with me?” The tightness in her chest began to spread. “I don’t understand. You gave me your body but you won’t even talk to me! Was it at all special for you? Or was I only a convenient body at a convenient time?”

“Ellie, no… Shit…” His chest heaved as if he’d run a hundred miles. “It was special. God, you’ve got no idea how much.”

“But there’s someone else, isn’t there?” She felt like she was teetering on the edge of a precipice, one missed step and she’d go over. “I know there is. Your stepmother, Elizabeth, she told me at the wedding there was another woman. That there was only one woman in your life and it wasn’t me.”

A dark flame leapt in his eyes, his expression unreadable. “Did she? And did she say who this woman was?”

“No. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

He’d gone very still. “Yeah, it’s true. There was another woman in my life. But she’s not in it anymore.”

It should have made her feel relieved, yet it didn’t. Instead, a weird foreboding gripped her, prompted by his stillness and the oddly detached look on his face. As if the precipice was crumbling under her feet and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “She’s not?”

“No. Although technically she’s still around.”