Hunter's Moon, Loribelle Hunt [story reading TXT] 📗

arched an eyebrow when he stepped in behind her.

“We don’t have time for this. There’s a job to do.”

No way. He was not about to let her hunt down and kill her own father. He shook his head as he reached for the soap and began to lather her up.

“No. You need to let someone else handle this one, baby. I’ll take care of it personally.”

He spun her around to do her back, but not fast enough to miss her glare. She stiffened under his hands. He wanted to stroke her, to massage the tension from her shoulders and back, but he kept his touches impersonal. They needed to have this out.

God, how had Gia gotten in this mess? Yeah, she’d wanted to fuck him. Both times. But how could she have forgotten in the middle of that intense passion that he’d claimed her? In her own defense, he had been doing incredible, sinful things to her body. But as soon as that was over, he got bossy. There was a small part of her that even found the bossiness a turn-on. If he touched her between her legs, he’d find her wet and ready. There was only one explanation. She’d lost her damned mind.

She struggled for control, tried to calm herself as the full ramifications of what he’d done sunk in. Face it, Gia. You could have stopped him. You didn’t want to. God, it was true. A secret, repressed part of her had wanted, no yearned, to be tied to him so permanently. And she fucking knew better. She’d seen firsthand what happened when a domineering, obsessed werewolf lost control.

She had to get rid of him. Get away from him. She could only think of one way to make that happen and the bitterness of what she planned twisted like a knife in her chest.

“Do it then,” she said softly, struggling to contain her anger and resentment. “Take care of it for me. Tonight, Anthony.”

She turned around and realized her mistake right away as she met his distrustful gaze. Damn. She’d given in too easy. She never did that. She always fought him. Even over stupid shit. He didn’t say a word, just reached behind her, turned off the water, and stepped out. She followed, accepting the towel he handed her and hurried to dry off before going back into the bedroom.

Since she spent so much time in the house, she kept extra clothes in the closet. She grabbed the first pants and shirt she saw, dug a bra out of the drawer. When she looked up, Anthony was already dressed. He must have brought clothes when he followed her in. How she’d missed that she couldn’t fathom. His eyes were narrowed on her.

“Those are jeans.”

Shit. She hadn’t looked because it didn’t matter, but these weren’t what she would wear on a mission. Obviously, she’d intended on skipping out while he went after her father. She threw them on the bed and got the right kind of pants from the closet. Black with cargo pockets on the thighs.

“You weren’t planning on going with me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his meanest look. “What were you planning? Running away?”

Somehow she kept her intended deceit from her face. “You insisted on taking care of this for me.”

“I assumed you were working up to the fight over that.” Something colored his voice. If she didn’t know better she’d call it vulnerability.

“I told you earlier I’m not up for fighting tonight,” she replied, referring to the conversation on the porch.

Stay calm. Don’t let him see how desperate you are. To get away. Or how confused. To stay and give in. Where the hell had that thought come from?

He stalked to her, the dangerous predator he was heavy in each step. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. She should have, but her pride wouldn’t allow it. The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight grin.

“You’re not afraid me. Never have been. Don’t try to use that as an excuse to fight our mating, Gia.”

It was a lousy time to remind of her of what he’d done. Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t give me a choice. I didn’t choose you.”

He grabbed her before she could react. His hands were on the back of her head holding her still, forcing her to meet his gaze. She tried to will the iciness she used to feel before she met him into her heart. He growled and this time she did flinch.

“You don’t get to hide from me damn it. Not anymore. And you did choose, baby. Out there on that lawn chair. You never would have let me touch you otherwise.”

She shook her head no, but couldn’t avoid that repressed voice in her mind that agreed with him. Was he right? She sighed. Maybe. Hell. Probably.

“I’m still pissed at you.” It was a concession, and they both knew it. At least he didn’t gloat over his victory. No smirk. Nothing but acceptance in his eyes.

“Let’s get moving.” He held his hand out to her, then led her out into the hall. “You never told me your parents’ names.”

It took her a long time to answer, and she couldn’t hide the pain and regret and longing in her voice when she did.

“Hattie and Arthur.”

They’d just reached the bottom of the stairs. Julian was talking quietly to Asa and Declan a few feet away.

“Arthur Roberts?” She heard the disbelief in his voice and glanced over to look at the other three men.

“Yeah.”

“He was a Hunter.”

She frowned. Did he have to remind her? Hunters were supposed to be incorruptible. Obviously they weren’t. This time he frowned.

“There’s a surprising lack of communication going on around here. Have you noticed no one exchanges full names between these two groups?”

She shrugged. They didn’t have to fully trust each other to work together. “So?”

Chapter Four

 

“There’s someone you should meet.” Anthony took her elbow and led her to Declan. He fell silent at her approach, studied