Page 53 of Hunter

“I have to,” he murmurs against my skin. “Because if I don’t walk away right now, I won’t. And you deserve better than me losing control on your doorstep.”

I want to argue. I want to drag him upstairs and let him lose control all over me. But something in his voice—that raw, honest edge—makes me nod instead.

He steps back, jaw clenched like it physically hurts him. His eyes are still dark, still hungry, raking over me one last time like he’s memorizing how I look right now: flushed, lips swollen, shirt crooked, half-hard in my jeans.

“Give me your phone.” He holds out his hand, palm up.

It takes a second for the words to register. Then I pull out my phone, unlock it, and hand it over without question. My fingers are still trembling.

Hunter opens my texts, types something to himself, and saves his contact. When he hands the phone back, I see the new entry:

Hunter :wolf emoji:

I can’t help the small, stupid smile that tugs at my mouth.

“Now, go inside,” he says softly. “Text me when you’ve locked your door behind you.”

I climb the steps to the front door on shaky legs, hyper-aware of his eyes on me the whole way. At the top, I pause, hand on the door, and look back one more time. He’s still standing there on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching me with that intense, protective stare that makes my stomach flip.

“Stalker,” I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

“The hands-on type,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching.

The words hit me like a spark. Heat floods my face again as I slip inside and close the door behind me. Then take the steps two at a time to my apartment. The second the lock clicks, I lean back against the wood, eyes closed, trying to catch my breath. My lips are still tingling. My skin feels too tight. My dick is definitely interested and has been for the last twenty minutes.

Sofia immediately winds between my ankles, purring like she’s congratulating me on my terrible decisions. I slide down until I’m sitting on the floor, knees pulled up, phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline.

I open our new chat and type with shaky thumbs:

Me: Door locked. Safe.

The reply comes almost immediately.

Hunter: Good. Now close your blinds. Creepy people can see into your apartment from the street.

I let out a breathless laugh, pressing the back of my head against the door. The audacity of him.

Me: You mean you can see into my apartment from the street?

Hunter: Exactly. Close them.

I’m grinning like an idiot as I push myself up and cross to the three big windows. I tug the curtains shut, but leave them cracked just enough that a sliver of warm lamplight still spills out onto the street below. A tiny act of rebellion. Let him see that I’m not completely obeying.

Me: Done. Happy now, creep?

Hunter: Very. You’re safe. That’s all I care about.

I bite my lip, staring at the screen. My body is still buzzing. I keep replaying the kiss and how he groaned into my mouth, tugging me up into him. Fuck.

Me: You should’ve come up.

The dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. He’s typing and deleting. I can practically see him standing on the sidewalk, jaw tight, fighting with himself.

Hunter: If I came up right now, I wouldn’t leave until morning. And you deserve better than that.

Me: You say that like it’s a bad thing. What if I don’t want better tonight?

Hunter: Then you’re going to kill me, Charlie. Because I’m barely hanging on as it is.