Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Someone is being friendly to you, Hunter Knox.
Just go have some normal, college fun.
You can figure out if you want to strangle Colson or fuck him senseless at a later time.
“Maybe I’ll take more than just one drink.”
15
Rayne
I’m alone in the Onyx House reading room when I get Hunter’s text.
Each wall of the small sitting room is lined with tall, dark shelves full of books, and it’s one of the coziest places in the house.
The first text I get from Hunter is simple.
You really want to know me?
Something stirs inside me.
What the fuck does he mean by that?
The texts that follow in the next hour or two begin to paint a darker picture.
I did bad things, Colson. Is that what you want to know about?
Yes. Why wouldn’t I?
Because there are some things you’re better off not knowing.
He must be drinking.
I roll my eyes at the text, but knowing Hunter, he’s dead serious.
Sometimes there really are things I wish I didn’t know.
Sometimes, the truth breaks my fucking heart.
Like with Weston.
And things I couldn’t have dreamed about his childhood.
But there’s a darker urge inside me, now, too. An urge that Hunter brings out in me, every time.
Because I do want to live in his world.
I’ve been curious for half of my fucking life about what Hunter’s world is like. It’s terrifying, but the more time I spend with Hunter, I only want more of him.
When he left our bedroom earlier, I wanted to yank him back in. Shove him onto my bed. Make him talk, or make him fuck. Any way I could get to him.
And that’s why something is certifiably wrong with me.
The glow of my phone shines out at me in the dark room. I haven’t bothered to turn on any lights in the reading room since the sun went down, and now I’m here in the darkness.
I reach for one of the small old Victorian-style lamps on an oak end table, pulling the gold chain and letting a small pool of light into the room.
Some of the other guys are outside grilling food and having some beers near the ping pong table in our back courtyard, and a few others are upstairs chilling on their own.
I grip my phone.
I tap out a reply and hit send before I can second-guess myself.
I’m already living in your fucking world. And I think both of us know that.
My heart feels like it’s lodged somewhere up near my throat.
Suddenly I feel like I’m intoxicated even though I haven’t taken anything.
Are you telling me that you’re mine, Rayne?
I’m saying I want more.
My hands shake a little as I press the send button.
But I’m also already hard, just sitting here alone sending texts to someone I shouldn’t.
My body is shot through with adrenaline but also hit with a type of clarity I haven’t ever felt anywhere but on the football field.
I don’t know what I’m doing. But I know my body is responding like I’ve just been plugged into an electrical socket.
Don’t tell me that unless you mean it.
And you doubt my honesty?
Tell. Me. What. You. Want.
I fucking want ALL of you, Hunter. I want everything.
No you don’t.
Need me to prove it?
My blood is hot as I wait for a response.
A minute ticks by.
And then another.
I’m so turned on my cock is aching even though I haven’t touched it, and I feel like the world is going to swallow me whole.
I keep reading over the texts I sent.
What is wrong with me?
And why don’t I care?
Ten minutes later, I hear the front door of Onyx House swing open.
Footsteps come down the floorboards, and I see Hunter’s figure walk into the open archway near the reading room before he glances inside.
His eyes focus on me when he sees me there.
He looks angry. And he looks so fucking good it makes my chest ache.
I am fucked.
I am so fucked.
He walks under the low arch and comes inside, keeping his eyes on me. This man truly could kill me, and that’s not even the biggest concern.
My cock is even harder now, like I’m Hunter’s trained pet, the second he turns to look my way.
“You’ve been drinking,” I say.
“Yes.”
There’s something intense about his eyes. Something tells me Hunter Knox could be blackout drunk and still somehow completely in control of himself.
I stand up from the lounge sofa and hold his gaze.
“This isn’t the place to talk,” I tell him.
“Good. We’re not talking.”
He closes the distance between us in another moment and his hand slides to the back of my neck. I part my mouth for him, allowing him in right away.
We're in a room that’s open to the rest of the house.
The archway doesn’t even have a door.
It looks out onto the hallway right by the entryway, and if anyone crossed there right now, they’d see all of this.
And yet all I can think about is the way his tongue tastes like whiskey and I want more.