Authors: Lena Black
“You shouldn’t talk to me like this,” I remark softly, staring down at my blood red pumps.
“Why?”
I glare up at him.
“Don’t play dumb. You’re too smart for that.”
“Gigi, I love you. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t take the opportunity to tell you so or touch you if I get the chance? If I could, I would scoop you up into my arms and kiss you until you couldn’t see straight.”
Oh, that accent. It never ceases to work on me.
“You
really
shouldn’t talk to me this way,” I reply breathlessly.
He smirks crookedly at me, caressing my bicep, staring longingly into my eyes. He steps in a bit closer, our bodies almost touching. I smell his fragrance of paint, testosterone, and cologne, triggering memories and feelings I once held for him.
I gaze back into his eyes, entranced by him, the music, memories of our most intimate, tender moments. The champagne bubbles fizzle in my head, and I forget myself. He leans in, readying to place his lips on mine, and for a brief instant, I allow him to, I invite it.
I shut my eyes, and his mouth grazes mine, his velvety breath warming my lips. I regain control of my cognitive faculties and shove him away. I’m about to reprimand him when he’s forcefully spun around and punched in the face. He flies into the wall with a deafening thud, and I scream. The patrons around us gasp and fight one another to investigate what just occurred.
Hunt is standing there, eyes ablaze, fists wound up tight. He’s breathing harshly with a heart-stopping scowl chiseled on his perfect face. He snatches up my hand and hauls me out of there quicker than you can say oh my fuck.
I glance back at Walker, he’s rising up off the floor with the help of a few friends. He rubs his jaw, and his eyes dart about the room, searching for me. When he finds me, our eyes lock, and he calls out, “Gabrielle!”
He weaves through the surrounding mob, bumping and pushing into people, desperately trying to make it to me. I break eye contact and hang my head as Hunt tows me out onto the street. He grabs the keys away from the valet and heads toward a parking lot a few structures down. He hastily strides down the sidewalk, yanking me along behind him.
“Gigi!” I halt, and Damian turns back as Walker approaches us.
“Don’t you fucking call her that,” Hunt snarls through clamped teeth, heading back at him. I pull on his arm with all my strength and manage to stop him, putting myself in between. “Gabrielle, get out of the way,” Hunt barks, staring deep into my eyes, pain wrenching his face.
“It’s over! You’ve done enough,” I holler with my hands splayed on his chest.
“I should beat the fuck out of him!” he yells at Walker. “Gabrielle, get out of my way,” he orders with seething rage, clenching his teeth.
“Don’t talk to her in that tone! You don’t own her,” Walker snaps. “Gigi, love, come to me, I’ll take care of you. I’ll love you like he never will.”
That’s it. Hunt swerves past me, charging at Walker, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto the sidewalk. He slams into him, taking them both down hard into the cement. The crashing sound of their large bodies hitting the ground is immense. Hunt’s on top. His fist smashes into Walker’s face, but Walker manages to sock him back and knock Hunt off. They go at each other with a boiling hot wrath, and I scream, begging them to stop. I bolt over to them and pull at anything I can get my hands on.
Suddenly, Liam comes running over and gets between the brawling virile males. “Gabrielle, get back. I got this,” he orders as he struggles to keep them apart.
Walker’s friends, Brian and Charlie, come running up, snagging their friend and pulling him away. Liam is holding Damian back while he attempts to get back at McQueen. He hollers at Walker as his friends haul him away, “Stay the fuck away from her! Or I’ll fix you for good!”
“Try and stop me, langer!” Walker calls back, flipping him off.
Hunt goes crazy, but Liam keeps him at bay. “You fucking cocksucker!” Hunt’s deep voice roars.
“Hunt!” I cry and cautiously walk up to him. His vicious emerald eyes turn on me, piercing my soul, my heart, and he storms off toward his car, snatching his jacket off the ground. I gawk at Liam, and he nods his head in Hunt’s direction, signaling me to go after him. I don’t hesitate and chase him down the street.
“Hunt, please!” I plead. “Stop! That’s an order,” I holler, and he turns back to me.
“What?!” I stand there like a deer in headlights. He throws his hands into his hair and grasps the thick strands. “Fuck!”
His screams echo about the street, causing people to stop and stare, some recognize him and snap a few photos on their phones.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur with trembling lips, in fact, everything tremors gently. “Please, don’t be upset with me.”
His face whips to mine, and I see the anguish in his eyes. “I’m not upset. I’m extremely hurt.” I tilt my head down, ashamed. “You were very naughty, Gabrielle. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson,” he rumbles, and my eyes shoot up to his, sexual need emanating from them. He’s turned on.
He strides back to me and scoops me up, taking my mouth onto his. He kisses me roughly, erasing any trace of Walker left on my lips, and I wrap my arms about his waist, holding him firmly to me.
He rips his mouth away and peers at me, breathless. “You belong to me, I own you.”
“Yes,” I murmur, shaking my head quickly, eyes hooded.
“Then why do you insist on disobeying me, why would you kiss another man?”
“I…I didn’t…I don’t...” I murmur.
I glimpse up into his eyes and notice there’s something different about them, something darker. Then it dawns on me, I’m not looking into the eyes of Damian, my lover. I’m gazing into the eyes of someone much darker…Hunt.
“Well, Gabrielle, you wanted to meet me, and after your little stunt, I certainly wanted to meet you. Tonight, you’re mine.” He turns and clutches my hand, walking us back t
o his car in deafening silence.
T
hankfully, once we reach his parent’s home in Napa, he’s calmed. Well, his anger has. His desire only seems to have heightened. His hand remained glued to my upper thigh the entire ride up. His thumb gently caressing the sensitive, exposed flesh of the inner most part, stroking my aching cleft occasionally. By the time we make it there, I’m wound up and dying for his cock.
It took us a little over an hour to get here, and we arrive at around ten. From what Hunt told me, these things can go all night. We drive up an extensive gravel driveway, through a massive vineyard, passing row after extensive grape-filled row. The Mansion finally materializes, and we park in front of the enormous, brightly lit Italian villa inspired manor. The sand colored walls and red-shingled roof must be lovely at sunset. The home meshes well with the surrounding tan and green earth. There are vines growing up the walls and pillars as if the home was birthed from the ground, grew like the grapevines surrounding the considerable property.
The wrap around veranda is filled with guests all dressed from head to toe in black and white. There’s not a splash of red in the bunch. There are numerous terrace doors open for easy access throughout the home. Tony Bennett croons about where he left his heart, floating out of every window and door, filling the sweet night air about the property with mellifluous music. It gives the manor a welcoming, make-yourself-at-home vibe.
Hunt’s hand finally unclasps from my leg, and he lithely climbs out of the car. I don’t wait, and I slide out with surprising nimbleness. He meets me at my door, extending out a gentle hand, and I take it, following him up the front stairs to the portico. He pauses and gives my hand a reassurance squeeze before entering the lively home.
We’re making our way through the partygoers when I hear a familiar voice calling out behind me. “I’m so glad you’re here!” The youthful female voice giggles out, and I turn, stunned by who I see standing in front of me.
“Oh…my…god,” she mutters, just as stunned.
Nice to Meet You
“E
llie?”
“
Bree?”
I stare stunned at the green-eyed, fair-haired beauty. Her sunshine hair swept up in an elegant bun. She’s dressed in a long, white halter dress with a slit ending high on her thigh and black strappy Manalo’s on her feet.
We giggle and squeal, hugging one another. Bree had been one of my closest friends in high school. She hung out with Jules, Chase, and I all the time, but we lost touch during college when she went off to Brown.
“You know one another?” Hunt asks curiously.
“Wait. This is Gabrielle?” Bree inquires, baffled.
“What am I missing?” I ask with confusion.
“Gabrielle, this is my little sister, Aubrey.”
“You’re Aubrey?” I can feel the dumbfounded look spread across my face.
I can’t believe I hadn’t made the connection.
“You’re the woman who captured Damian?” She gives me the same stunned expression.
“Yeah, I suppose I am.”
“I can’t believe it’s you. Keira is gonna just die. Come on, follow me.” She snatches up my hand and pulls me away from Damian, but he’s trailing not far behind us, keeping a watchful eye. We make it through the foyer, entering the opulent main room decorated in a tan, gold, and eggplant color scheme. We approach the platinum blonde vision from the photos, flirting it up with a group of young men vying for her affections. Her back is turned to us, showing off the dramatic draping of her dress, revealing her flesh to just above her rear. Adorning her neck is a long string of black pearls that hang down her back almost the same depth as the dip in her dress, a very old Hollywood white gown.
“Keira.”
“What?” she huffs, turning to face her sister.
“Look who it is.”
Her eyes float over me. When she glances at my face, hers lights up like a Christmas tree.
“Ellie?! My god!” She comes in for a hug and cries out into my ear. We giggle and talk, completely ignoring the ogling group of boys and poor Hunt until he lets out a loud throat clearing noise.
“Would anyone like to tell me what the hell is going on?” They continue to ignore him as they gush over how fabulous I look.
“Oh, we need to find Mom and Dad. They’ll be thrilled,” Keira comments, and they guide me, once again, away from Damian. I glance back at him as he trails behind with an annoyed look.
We wander the house, searching every cram packed room for their parents. When we’re unable to find them, we finally head out to the back terrace overlooking the yard and vineyard. There’s a huge white circus tent and popcorn lights strung over the entire yard, burning bright against the starry night sky. There are fire breathers, stilt walkers, trapeze artists, and contortionist in cages. It is nuts.
Everything and everyone is in black and white. Hunt and I appear to be the only ones wearing red in our ensembles. I wonder if they did this to make us easy to spot in the sea of white.
Keira must see her parents because she yanks me down the stairs with Aubrey in tow. Hunt steps in front of us and asks in an annoyed tone, “May I have my girlfriend, please?”
They reluctantly release me with a boo, and I take Hunt’s hand. He escorts us across the lawn while his sisters stride next to me. His mother spots us as we approach them. They’re with
her
.
“Mother,” he greets with a nod of the head, and she comes in for a hug. She discovers me over his shoulder.
“Ellie, dear?”
“Yes. How are you, Vivian?”
She is petite with midnight black hair and light blue eyes. Dante is the spitting image of her. She’s wearing a black strapless gown with diamonds dripping from her ears, wrists, and neck. She’s absolutely breathtaking.
“I’m wonderful. Are you…”
“This is Gabrielle. Damian’s Gabrielle,” Keira blurts out.
“I’m so pleased.”
“Told you,” Keira remarks with a self-satisfied grin.
“Pierce, come meet your son’s girlfriend,” Vivian says over her shoulder. Her husband walks up to her side and finds me blushing furiously, clutching onto Hunt. He’s about half a foot shorter than Damian is, but just as dashing, with dark brown hair and piercing aquamarine eyes.
“Ellie, how amazing. You look lovely, my dear.”
“Thank you. It’s good to see you both.”
“You have no idea how happy we are,” Pierce states.
“Would you please excuse us?” Vivian says, preoccupied, gawking over our shoulders. We glance back to find Dante sauntering toward us. They walk over to him, greeting him with open arms. Olivia
, emerging from behind her parents, strides up to our little group and gives me a snide look. She’s wearing a blood red toga dress with a high slit going straight up the front, ending about a half inch from a place I would never hope to see. Her long, chocolate strands are tied back in a sleek, straight ponytail.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s a fucking bitch,” Aubrey whispers in my ear.
“Will someone please explain to me how you know my Gabrielle?” Hunt asks, frustrated.
Olivia’s eyes snap to mine, and I smile, gratified by Hunt’s clarification of our relationship and my importance in his life.
“We went to school together. She was one of my closest friends. She spent the night at our house almost every weekend. In fact, she slept in your bed,” Aubrey replies with a smirk.
“That was his bed?” I ask, stunned.
“Yep.”
“Where was I while she was sleeping in my bed without me?”
“You were in college or out making your fortune. Who the hell knows? You never came home, so whenever she spent the night, she would sleep in your room.”
“I remember,” I comment, smiling to myself.
“Well, isn’t this a small world.” Olivia comments with malice.
“Oh, shut up,” Keira snaps. “Who invited you into this conversation? I sure as shit didn’t. Why don’t you hop on your broom and fly the hell out of here.”
“Who asked you, you little bitch?”
“Hey,” Aubrey shouts, “Don’t talk to my sister like that! You old washed up, bitter hag.”
“Why don’t you find a house to fall on you?” Keira adds.
“Damian, please, say something,” she pleads.
I answer for him in a sickeningly sweet tone, “I believe you were asked to leave.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you, whore.”
“What did you call her?” Hunt growls. “Did you call my future wife a whore?”
“Damian, I…” Olivia mutters with trepidation wrenching her face.
“Don’t ever call her whore, again. I don’t want you to do as much as speak to her,” he interrupts with a curled upper lip.
“Dam…”
“Leave, Olivia. Now!” he snaps.
She rushes off with tears streaming down her angry face, past Dante and their parents into the crowded house. Dante gives Hunt a spiteful glare and chases after her.
We turn our attention back to one another, and Aubrey asks with a ridiculous grin, “Future wife? Is there anything you’d like to tell us?”
“Not particularly,” Damian replies curtly but shoots her a small smile.
“Fine. I’ll just pry it out of Ellie.”
“It was a mistake. He didn’t mean…” My panties go off in a fury, and I clamp my mouth shut to hold back the pleasured groans forcing themselves up my throat.
“I meant every syllable,” Hunt cuts me off, gazing fixedly into my eyes. He shuts them off, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Interesting,” Keira comments, as a man on stilts walks over us.
“You’re telling me,” I say, gawking up. “A circus theme seems fitting.”
Keira and Aubrey giggle while Hunt gives me a look expressing his understanding in my meaning. “Ladies, will you excuse us for a moment. I’ll let you have her once I’m done.”
Hunt clasps onto my elbow and leads me off to a quieter location. He takes me into the house and upstairs into the library, shutting and locking the door behind me. I turn, waiting for him to attack me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks over to a dark wood bar and pours himself a drink. He takes a sip, sighing as it slides down his throat.
“I’m ready for your answer, Elle,” he says, setting his glass on the bar, eyes focused on his current task.
“To get to the other side,” I reply flippantly.
His eyes creep up to mine, serious, concentrating on me. “Please, don’t. Don’t be facetious, Elle, not now. I need your answer about moving in. I can’t take it any longer.”
“Can’t we do this later? What’s the rush?”
“I consider myself a patient man normally, but I can’t take one more second of not knowing your decision. Elle, please, give me your answer.”
I glance down at my knotting, fidgety fingers and inhale sharply. “I’ve given it a lot of thought and weighed my options.” I pause and purse my lips. “People keep telling me to wait and I understand why…”
I stare at him for a moment, directing my attention on his lovely, anxious face, instead of the panic attack growing within me. My breathing is strained. I feel hot, boiling hot. My palms are sweating, and I begin to shake. I clamp my eyes shut and push the overwhelming sensation back down into the deepest regions of my psyche. I take a steadying breath. “However, I want to be with you, share my life with you, and no amount of time will convince me otherwise.”
“So?”
“Yes, Damian, I’ll move in with you.”
He strides over and dips me, kisses me, caresses me, loves me. He takes my lips and claims them as his. I fist my hands in his hair and hold his abrasive mouth to mine. When we part, we’re desperate for each other, chests heaving, hearts rapidly thumping, and our need palpable.
“I wish we could celebrate, but it will have to wait until later. Do you still want to go to my other place tonight?”
“Yes. I’m ready for you to show me. You know my thirst for you is quenchless. I want all of you, Damian, every drop.”
He bathes me with light kisses, over my face, neck, and chest, cradling my lustful body roughly against his. I want him now. I can’t wait until later. I need him thrusting deep inside, where he belongs.
“Damian?” I purr with my head hanging back as he ravages my chest.
“Yes, gorgeous?” he mumbles between kisses.
“I need you. Will you take me, please?” I breathe.
“I want to wait until later. A little delayed satisfaction never killed anyone.”
“Then I may be the first, because I’m dying for you. Please,” I beg.
He cocks his brow and smirks devilishly at me. “I have an idea.” He lifts me up and guides me to a brown leather couch in the middle of the room.
“Lie down.”
I submit and lie on the couch, aroused by the command. Hunt stands over me, peering down from emerald eyes, and I shiver under his wanton gaze.
“Close your pretty eyes and keep them closed.”
I shut them and wait. I wait for the slightest touch, kiss, or whisper, but there’s nothing. I hear the sound of leather as solid weight is pressed into it, but it’s not the couch. It comes from a few feet away. I furrow my brows, confused, and then the delicious pulses from my panties tingle against my wet cleft.
“Does that feel good, angel? Do you want more?” he rumbles.
I grasp the edge of the cool cushion and writhe as they go to town on me. I moan and squirm as goose bumps riddle my skin. The speed quickens, and I call out to him, “Hunt, please. I want to feel you.”
“I know, baby,” he purrs, “But I’m enjoying you writhing for me. I want to watch you cum hard.”
He switches it up another level, and I groan rowdily, mouth open, head digging into the couch while my back arcs violently. He turns it down low, and I lax into the cushions, groaning appreciatively, but the relief is short lived.
“What’s that? You want more?”
He turns it up full blast and it pulverizes my clit. I wriggle and bow with the throbbing ripples, licking my lips and clutching my trussed up breasts. My heels dig into the leather cushion as my torso twists, and I cry out, “Hunt, please. Take me.”
His lips abruptly collide with mine, muffling my euphoric bellows, taking them into his mouth. He slithers his fingers down the top of my dress to free the girls and tears his mouth from mine, clamping it down onto my erect nipple. He nips the tip, causing my back to spasm, forcing my breast further into his rapacious mouth.
His hand explores up my leg, grasping and kneading until it reaches my cleft. He runs the pad of his finger over the vibrating lace panties, along my wet lips. He stops over my clit, pressing it against my hard pink nub, causing the pulsations to increase and reverberate through me, building me up until I can’t take anymore.
I peak and come rolling down.
“That’s it,” he encourages seductively, “Cum for me, gorgeous.”
My cries burst from me, echoing throughout the large room, as the intense orgasm possesses every inch of my coiling body. I drag my nails up my thighs, moaning and relaxing into the couch. I open my eyes as my arms rise above my head, and I stretch with a gratified smile on my face.