Blindsight

His head dipped, and teeth pulled at my aching nipple, tight and puckered from the cool air. I arched and sighed, wrapping my legs around his waist and rubbing my body against his.

“Fuck, I don’t know how I stayed away from you for so long,” he whispered between teasing licks at my nipple as his other hand worked the zipper on his dress pants.

“God,” I sighed as my eyes appraised him. All sharp lines and hard muscle, rippling as his body hovered over me, a few wayward strands of golden hair licking across his forehead.

“I’ve been dreaming about fucking you,” he ground through clenched teeth, just as the tip of his cock made contact with my heated skin for the first time. A low groan burned from my chest and filled the heated space between us as he worked in slow thrusts, deeper and further each time.

“So fuck me.”

“Mmm…” That reckless half smile tilted his lips as my eyes flickered open at his words.

“Please, Sir.” I begged softly, just as he’d said I would. At my words Hunter’s eyes flickered with danger and he sunk into me in one fierce thrust. He moved with focused ease, and with the lights of Chicago blazing through the windows, Hunter fucked me like a whore for all the city to see. His eyes burned with emerald fire as our gazes locked and he fucked me so hard I thought I may lose my mind. My heels dug into his ass and I itched to run my fingers through his hair and across his golden biceps. “Oh, God…” An orgasm tightened and bunched my muscles, curled my toes, and left me sitting on the edge and so close to ruin.

“Fuck. You feel better than I fucking dreamed,” Hunter grunted and the raw tone of his voice left me falling off into another world where I couldn’t see, couldn’t think, could only feel my nerves burning up for the first time in so, so long.

“So fucking beautiful. Your body shaking around mine. Christ, that’s the face I want on camera. Your beautiful face as you cum, hanging on my wall for everyone to see.” Hunter’s hands tightened painfully at my hips as his thrusts grew shallow and quick, his words urging me on. Fingers pulled at the locks of my hair before one hand fisted at the back of my neck. With his forehead against mine, his heavy pants mingling with mine, he came in long slow groans that echoed out of his chest and that I felt to my very core. His body held lean and rigid above me, I ached to run my fingertips across his back, following the cut lines of his torso and his scars like Braille under my fingertips.

His heavy weight finally slackened, his taut muscles relaxing into my own before he placed a gentle kiss into my neck, his tongue darting out in discovery. “I love the taste of you.” His low grumble had another wave of arousal wetting my thighs. I hummed as a lazy smile turned my lips.

“You’re especially ravishing post-sex, Erin Warner.” A half grin lifted his face before one hand pushed through my hair. “I love seeing the ropes against your skin,” he whispered in my ear before his deft fingers worked the knots and untied me swiftly.

I slouched against the leather and sighed, unable to form words as I relived each moment, the slow delicious feeling of our coupling pulsing through me as his thick cock burned against every nerve with his retreat.

His hands kneaded at my shoulders and then my wrists before he placed a soft kiss on the underside of each. My stomach burned with warmth. “Join me on the balcony for a smoke?”

“Smoke?” I rolled over and enjoyed the cool leather against my sex-damp skin. “Since when do you smoke?”

“I only do it after…” He nodded to the bench we’d just fucked on and then sent a rakish grin my way. With hands clasped, he dragged me to the balcony where the brisk wind whipped my hair and tightened my nipples through the soft blanket he’d draped over my shoulders.

“So how long have you had that pack?” I asked with an arch of my eyebrow.

He arched his right back, mocking me. “A while.”

“I’m sure,” I bantered, getting the answer I expected of him, but not one that I entirely believed.

“I need a bathroom break.” I dropped his hand to scurry out. “Be right back.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He caught my elbow and hauled me into his lap. I was conscious of the liquid dripping down my thighs on the seats, on him.

“I’m gross, just give me a minute.” I peeled the sweat-dampened hair off my neck and pulled it to one shoulder, thankful for the cool air against my skin.

“Nothing gross about it; I like me inside you. Smoke with me,” he said each sentence disjointedly, as if they were all ordered for me to follow, no decision to be made at all.

“No.” I shook my head. “You are too much for me to handle some days.” I smiled and watched him take a long draw of the cigarette as my hand curled around his neck, one finger playing with the cool chain of the dog tags against his searing hot skin.

“Most days, I think.” He exhaled and then smiled wildly, a full-toothed grin that sent my heart racing.

“You’re probably right.” I giggled. “And I have to say, I had you pegged for a health nut, what’s with the cancer sticks?”

“Old habits are tough to break.” He gri

I sighed and trailed my hand further down his chest to land on the matching doves that flew across his pectorals. I ran my fingers across the dusting of hair and over the ink. Smooth skin without a mar to be felt. “What’s different about these?” I tipped my head, fascinated.

He was silent for long beats, and it took me more than a moment to realize he may not want to divulge his every secret to me just because we’d fucked.

“I chose these,” he finally answered and took another draw of his cigarette while his eyes held mine with unwavering intensity. I nodded my head, unwilling or unable to tear my gaze from his, before he held the cigarette out. “Try it. Believe me, makes the orgasm even better.” He winked and just like that he was the Hunter that held no pretense. We could just be.

“No thanks.” I tucked myself further into his shoulder. His arm came around me and we sat like that, him smoking, me watching, as the Chicago night darkened around us, cool and naked on the balcony with the evidence of us ru

fourteen

I’d watched her somber form take the steps down from the courthouse earlier, each step measured and with a stroke of sadness. It wasn’t easy, what I assumed she’d done within those imposing brick walls. But she’d known what she had to do. She’d taken it a step too far. It was time.

She plopped onto a bench at the sidewalk and broke down into torrents of tears. Dark hair fell around her shoulders, obscuring her from my lens, but I was rooted. I couldn’t take a picture if I tried. No one deserved to have the very moment when the life they thought they knew fell out from under them captured on film. If she only knew the real story.

It’s only the tip of the iceberg, baby.

My instincts told me to go to her, hold her in my arms and offer her some sense of comfort, but then I laughed with ironic spite, realizing how unwelcome my comfort would be.

I was the man that would soon be responsible for taking her life apart one perfect piece at a time.

fifteen