| |
When
he arrived in front of Walters Antiques, he thought of
his mom predicting he’d come—she’d have a laugh when
she found out she’d been right.
Hunter pulled open the door and went inside. He looked
around for Brooks, and when he spotted the man his
breath caught. All he could see of Brooks was his
perfect bubble butt as he bent over what looked to be
a huge trunk of some kind. Hunter stepped closer, then
to the side. The top half of Brooks’ body was out of
view inside the trunk. Suddenly, Brooks jerked upright
and turned his head towards Hunter. Brooks studied
him—his green-eyed gaze was impassive, then that smirk
Hunter hated curled his lips. Then dimples appeared on
each side of Brooks’ mouth.
Brooks turned fully, and involuntarily Hunter’s gaze
dropped, taking in Brooks’ usual clothing. His T-shirt
was a dark grey, his jacket pale cream and his jeans
black. Each item fit his lean frame perfectly. Hunter
looked away from temptation and to his face. Brooks
was too attractive for Hunter’s own good. Brooks was
what one would call classically handsome, with
features that melded to make him interesting to look
at. Brooks lifted a hand, pushing back his blond hair
that was in wild disarray, then moved towards Hunter.
Whenever he saw Brooks move, Hunter was reminded of a
predator. His movements looked casual, but there was a
restrained power, which could at any moment become
deadly. From the little Hunter knew about Brooks’
background, he was quite capable of violence. During a
previous case, he’d discovered that Brooks was
ex-military, retired for about ten years. As for what
he had done in the military, all they had been told
was that it was classified. It was aggravating not to
know more—just as aggravating as the man himself.
It’s not that ‘A’ word. Try attractive. Come on, admit
it. You’re attracted to the pain in the ass. Hunter ignored the
voice in his head, as he had for months.
No
way was he even going there. He might be drawn
sexually to Brooks, but he could see just from looking
at him that Brooks wasn’t one for anything long-term.
At this stage in his life, that was all Hunter was
looking for. He’d done the casual sex thing, and it
didn’t work for him. He wanted what his parents had
had. Brooks might be a temptation, but Hunter wasn’t
ruled by his libido. Everything he had seen from being
around Brooks confirmed his impressions of the
man—Brooks flirted with almost everyone. Thankfully,
Hunter had been spared from it. If Brooks had tried,
he might have decked him. That was also the problem.
Hunter was attracted to Brooks, but equally, he wanted
to hit him. Brooks pushed his buttons, and Hunter
didn’t like it one bit.
“Detective, to what do I owe this most unexpected
visit?”
Brooks’ baritone was smooth, but packed the punch of
whisky, straight, taken in one gulp.
How
would he sound with me buried deep within his body? Hunter
wondered, as he had so many times. |
