Untamed Hunger Page 12

  Climbing quietly out of bed, she pulled on her jeans and t-shirt and slipped to the door, peeking into the living room. Gunner and Reece, along with a third man, sat around the kitchen table. The tension between them was almost visible. Combined with the testosterone level in the room, Claire was definitely out of her element.

  “It’s not that simple, Gunner. You think you’ve gotten rid of the problem by getting rid of Adrian, but there’s more to this than just him. You’re in deeper trouble here.”

  The third man looked intently at Gunner as he spoke. He was dressed not all that differently than Gunner or Reece, in jeans and a t-shirt, but his clothes weren’t grease-stained or travel-worn. He looked ex-military or like a cop to Claire, from his bearing to his brush-cut salt-and-pepper hair. And especially the commanding way he talked to Gunner and Reece.

  Gunner shook his head. “There’s nothing left to talk about. Claire’s problem—our problem—was Adrian. He was pissed at her for leaving him at the altar, and now he’s not pissed anymore. Problem solved. Victor’s not my problem.”

  Reece sat forward, resting his arms on the table. “Stop being such a bullhead, Gunner. Listen to us. You killed the son of one of the most powerful Alphas around. Victor’s not just going to let you have a free pass on that.”

  “There are ramifications here, big ones. Things you’re not paying attention to.” The mystery man turned to Gunner. “You think this is just about Adrian and Claire, but it’s not. Now it’s about you.”

  Gunner sat back, arms folded across his chest, a dark scowl on his face. He looked up and caught sight of Claire. The scowl faded and he uncrossed his arms, resting his palms on the table.

  “Claire.”

  Reece and the other man turned around. Gunner stood up, coming around the table, taking her by the hand.

  “Come on and sit down. This is as much about you now as it is about me.”

  He pulled up another chair for her and she sat down. Gunner moved back to his seat, dropping heavily into it.

  “This is Malone.” Gunner nodded toward the third man. “My…I guess, our, Alpha. Malone, this is Claire.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Claire.” He rose slightly and extended his hand across the small table, and she shook it. His grip was firm, his hand warm, and he met her gaze squarely. “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

  “Me, too.”

  He released her hand, sitting back but keeping his eyes on her. Those eyes were dark brown, almost black, as he took in every detail of her face. She felt like he could be reading her mind. Or making a decision about her.

  Pulling her knees up, she settled her feet on the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs. She was suddenly self-conscious, felt exposed, almost as if she was sitting naked in front of the man. The moment seemed to stretch on forever. Then Malone turned back to Gunner.

  “Victor’s contacted me. He wants to meet you.”

  “Meet with him? Not thrilled with that idea.” Gunner shook his head, eyes darkening.

  Malone reached out, resting his hand on Gunner’s shoulder. “I won’t let you go alone. I’ll go with you.”

  Claire raised her head. “I’m going, too.” The words came out a hell of a lot louder than she wanted. She coughed and tried again.

  “I’m going with Gunner.”

  “No, you’re not.” Malone turned to her. His gaze was hard, and a shiver ran down her spine. “This isn’t your problem anymore, Claire.”

  She set her feet on the floor, sitting up straight, meeting Malone’s eyes even though her heart was doing a jittery beat in her chest. “But I’m the one who got Gunner involved in this. I’m not letting him do this alone, just like he didn’t let me deal with Adrian alone. We’re a package deal now.”

  Malone held her gaze, eyes going hard as granite. She wanted to look down and break away from his piercing look, but she lifted her chin instead.

  An electric current passed between them, an unspoken challenge, and she held her breath, wondering who was going to back down first. It took all her nerve to not drop her eyes. Finally, Malone shrugged, eyes narrowing. The granite look was still there, but the challenge had faded. She almost thought she saw a begrudging look of approval pass over his face.

  “Fine. It’s clear you’re as stubborn as he is.” He turned to Gunner, jerking his thumb in her direction. “It looks like you found someone as bullheaded as you, Gunner.”

  There was a muffled laugh from Reece, which drew a scowl from both Gunner, and Malone.

  Malone ran his hand across his face. “We meet with him tomorrow night at midnight. Neutral territory, out of town, at the abandoned warehouse on Bedford Street.”

  Gunner placed his hands flat on the table, head down, not meeting Malone’s eyes. “Yeah, I know where it is.” Claire glanced at Gunner. His words came out in a low growl, his brow furrowed. It was pretty clear he wasn’t happy taking orders, even from his Alpha. She suppressed a smile; she knew exactly how he felt.

  Gunner slid his hands back, gripping the edge of the table. Claire glanced down, watching his knuckles whiten. She held her breath, half-expecting an outburst from Gunner, a declaration he wasn’t going. Reece was sitting just as still as she was, warily watching the two men.

  Gunner finally pushed away from the table, lifting his head to meet Malone’s eyes. “I’ll be there.”

  The tension lessened slightly, as the men rose from the table. Claire stood, but she hung back by the table. Malone and Reece walked to the door, as Gunner silently held it open. Reece disappeared down the hall, but Malone turned back. Claire caught his look, the same intense scrutiny focused on Gunner she’d seen in Malone’s eyes when he’d looked at her.

  “Gunner, tomorrow, midnight. Don’t think you can run this time.”

  Malone held Gunner’s gaze for a long moment. Claire shifted from one foot to another, arms wrapped around herself. Malone’s voice and manner made it clear he was Alpha and Gunner was expected to obey.

  Gunner drew a breath, jaw clenched. “I’m not going to run this time, Malone. I’ll be there…we’ll be there.”

  

  24

  Gunner closed the door, hand resting on the doorknob for a moment. Finally, he sighed and turned to face Claire. Even though he was smiling, it didn’t come anywhere close to reaching his eyes. It hurt her to see the exhaustion etched on his face. It hurt more knowing she was the reason all this was happening.

  “You okay?”

  With another sigh, he moved across the room to where she stood, then pulled her against his chest. “Yeah. I’m okay.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I guess I’m not very good at taking orders.”

  “That’s an understatement.” She raised her head, meeting his eyes. “You want to talk about it?”

  “No, not now. Maybe later.” He rested his finger beneath her chin, looking down into her eyes. “I don’t want to think about Adrian, or Victor, or Malone. I want to forget all of that right now. I just want to spend time with you.”

  She smiled, sliding her hands along the fabric of his shirt, resting her cheek against his chest. The warmth of his body was comforting, the strength of his arms reassuring. She wrapped her arms around his body, squeezing him hard. He grunted.

  “Careful. You’re stronger than you look, you know.”

  Claire pulled way. “Oh, shit, I forgot. I’m sorry…your ribs? Did I hurt you?”

  She tilted her face up to his. The corner of his mouth twitched, a barely concealed smile playing about his lips. “My ribs are fine. I’m just messing with you.” He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tight, hands dipping down to cup her ass, pressing her against him. “You are strong though…for a girl.”

  She wiggled in his grip, pushing against his chest, laughing. “For a girl? Let me go and I’ll show you just how strong I am.”

  “No way. I’ve got you where I want you…almost.”

  Before she could answer, he picked her up, and tossed her over his
shoulder. She let out a squeal of surprise, bracing her hands on his back.

  “Gunner, you’re crazy. What are you doing?”

  “Taking you back to bed.”

  Claire laughed as he carried her across the living room. She squirmed in his grip, but he reached up, and slapped a hand across the seat of her jeans. Her sensitive backside protested, a delicious heat blossoming, as she let out a yelp.

  “Watch your head.” Gunner took her through the bedroom door, dropping her onto the bed. He climbed in beside her, hands already tugging at her t-shirt, fumbling with the snap on her jeans.

  “This is what I want. You and me, just us together.”

  His mouth came down on hers, his tongue flicking across her lips. She opened her mouth to him, his tongue sweeping against hers, setting off little tremors of anticipation through her body.

  Somewhere along the way, Gunner had taken off his shirt and now Claire’s hands were busy with the zipper on his jeans. There was a moment of controlled chaos, limbs caught in fabric, jeans sliding down legs, and then they were naked. He pulled her against him, his face nuzzling her neck for a moment before he lifted his head. His eyes were dark, dancing with arousal, mirroring the awakening heat she felt deep inside.

  “All I want, until tomorrow night, is you and me. I don’t care what we do…well, I do…”

  Claire suppressed a giggle. “Same here. Like a bubble, or a cocoon. Nothing intrudes. Except maybe Chinese takeout.”

  Gunner cocked an eyebrow at her. “Chinese takeout? Really? And you say that after you’ve had my cooking?"

  The giggle escaped this time. “No criticism of your cooking, but it’s been so long since I had Chinese. I was always afraid Adrian would find me…that someone might follow the delivery guy or something.” The giggles faded. “It’s silly…”

  Gunner reached up, caressing her face. “Not silly at all. You were afraid, you did what you thought you needed to do to protect yourself.” He kissed her forehead with a tenderness that brought tears to Claire’s eyes.

  “If you want Chinese, we’ll order Chinese.” He looked down at her. “Later…”

  She smiled as he shifted on the bed, his body moving over hers. It was pretty clear he had only one thing on his mind at the moment, and it wasn’t Kung Pao Chicken.

  She reached up, winding her arms around his neck, pulling him close. His eyes were the color of a blue ocean, warm and soft. “Yeah, later is fine.”

  Gunner kissed her, lips moving slowly over hers, his hands sliding over her body. Everything felt new, her body alive in a different way, almost like everything was moving in slow motion. Her body was languorous, heavy in a dreamy, unreal way. She shuddered underneath his touch, arching against his hands. He lifted his head, gazing down at her.

  “Something’s different. You’re different. Better…”

  “Better?” She pushed up beneath him, bracing herself on her elbows, Gunner rising away from her. “So before was bad? Are you saying sex with me was bad?” She’d gotten the right tone of self-righteous indignation in her voice.

  He held up one hand. “Whoa, no, sorry. Bad choice of words. Not better, it was great before. Now…you’re more relaxed. How’s that? That’s better, right?”

  She lay back, grinning. “Just messing with you. You’re right. I think for the first time I’m all here, not half-listening for noises or strange smells. Adrian is gone, really gone. I think it’s finally sinking in.”

  A slow grin spread across Gunner’s face. “Using my words against me? You learn fast. I like it.”

  He leaned back over her, the smile going a bit crooked and all kinds of sexy. “And now, stop talking.”

  She did as she was told. She really had no choice. His mouth was on hers, cutting off anything she might want to say. There were more ways to communicate than with words, and she was more than happy to go non-verbal, to let Gunner talk to her with his body.

  It wasn’t long before she was lost to the touch of his hands on her body, his mouth and tongue moving over her skin. She lay back, totally under his control as he worked his way slowly over her body, lavishing attention on every inch of her.

  Everything came to a standstill. Time, her thoughts, everything but the sensations Gunner was making happen inside her. She was moaning at his touch, heart beating fast, breath coming in short gasps.

  Gunner was curled next to her, one long leg thrown across her thighs, her legs stirring beneath his weight. He lifted his head from the breast he’d been nuzzling, or at least, he tried to. “Claire, let go of my hair.”

  Belatedly, she realized she still had her fingers wound through his hair.

  “Oh, sorry.” She let go of the thick strands. Gunner smiled, and moved his leg, sliding his body over hers. The sheets tangled briefly around her legs as she moved them, letting Gunner settle between them. He brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead, cradling her face against his palm, looking down at her, asking the unspoken but obvious question. She nodded.

  His hips flexed forward and he slid into her, taking his time. It was slow and deliberate, the most exquisite torture she could ever have asked for. He held himself deep inside her, barely moving, and she held her breath, every nerve tensed, expectant.

  Finally, she couldn’t hold back any longer, she arched her back, her hips rising and falling, asking, almost begging him with her body. He held her gaze a moment longer, eyes dark, teasing her.

  She raked her hands across his back, sliding them down his spine, fingers splayed across his ass.

  Digging her fingers into him, she pressed her hips upward, wrapping her legs around his waist. Gunner responded, pulling against her embrace briefly before thrusting forward. She cried out, her body opening to him, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure.

  Gunner was tender, gentle, assertive, and possessive all at the same time. Her body responded, moving with him, letting him set the pace, responding to him and his every move. All the pleasure, the arousal, the animal passion in her body came together, spiraling upward, taking her with it.

  When she came, it was sudden and violent, almost overwhelming. She cried out, again and again, hands flung wide, tugging the sheet from the bed. Above her, she felt the quickening in Gunner’s movements, knew by the way those movements grew erratic that he was there with her.

  The last glimpse she had of Gunner’s face before he buried his face against her neck carried such an amazing look of pure pleasure. She cried out again, pulling him to her, arms tangling around his neck, holding him as he shuddered against her.

  It was a long time before he raised his head from her shoulder. His face was flushed, dark hair tangled above his forehead. Claire raised a hand, fingers playing in the thick strands. He leaned forward, kissing her softly.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  The light in the room had faded and Gunner’s face was shadowed, his eyes dark blue, heavy-lidded in the dim light.

  “Are we using our words now?” She smiled up at him, arms around his neck. He nodded.

  “Use all the words you like, Claire.” He shifted beside her, one long leg cast over her thighs, pinning her in a way she found both possessive and secure. He tried to pull the sheet over them then gave up, letting it fall to the floor.

  “I love you, Gunner.”

  “I love you too, Claire.”

  “I never thought I’d say those words, ever, to any man again.”

  Gunner was silent, and she turned to him. “The last person I said them to was Adrian. It seems like another lifetime ago.” She drew a deep breath. The memory of the first time she’d met Adrian rose up.

  “You don’t have to talk about it…”

  “I do. I think I do. It’s all this crap still floating around in my head. It’s like taking out the last of the trash.”

  Gunner nodded. “Makes sense.” They were quiet for a while. Claire rested her head on Gunner’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the rise and fall o
f his breathing soothing her.

  “How did you meet Adrian?”

  “My dad worked for Victor…you know all that. Did errands…anything. Everything, I guess, since he was the one Victor sent to…”

  Gunner’s hand closed over hers. “Yeah. I know. He killed my father. On Victor’s orders.”

  “Yeah. So, anyway, we were always there at Victor’s. Later, Adrian started coming by our house. My mom thought heaven had opened up, dropping the perfect man at my feet.” Gunner’s grip on her hand tightened briefly.

  “Mom’s a romantic, and for a while, I felt the same. He was attentive, brought me gifts…he had money so the gifts were pretty wonderful. Anyway, I got lost in the romance, and lost track of the man.”

  “And then Victor decided you should marry Adrian?”

  “Yeah. That was the plan. Apparently it had been the plan all along. I was just too dumb to figure it out.” She drew a ragged breath, tears suddenly pricking her eyes. “Just too damn stupid.”

  “It’s not your fault, Claire. You’ve got to know that. You were manipulated, by Victor and Adrian.”

  “Adrian was charming…the only thing I didn’t give in to was sleeping with him.” She laughed, a rueful sound in the gathering dark. “It wasn’t that I didn’t find him attractive…I did…at first. But then, the more I resisted, the angrier he got. And the more erratic…and mean. That’s when the hitting started, when I continued to refuse to have sex with him.”

  She clenched her fists, trying to stave off the trembling that the memories had started. Gunner drew her against his body, hugging her close. “It’s okay. He’s gone. You don’t have to tell me the rest.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks as she curled into Gunner’s body. “For so long I thought I was doing something wrong, that it was my fault. But I just couldn’t…there was no way I was going to sleep with someone who hit me.”

  “You never tried to leave? Before the wedding, I mean?”

  Claire shook her head, wiping away tears from her face. “It was pretty clear I wasn’t going to be able to leave. Adrian kept me on a short leash. He’d told me, over and over, that Victor would track me down if I left. I didn’t care about that so much…I mean, it scared me. But then he said Victor would kill my mom if I left.”