Surrender to Me by Shayla Black, now you can read online.
Prologue
Friday
RUBBING damp palms on his denim-clad thighs, Hunter stood in front of the door of the bathroom Kata had retreated to and let out a deep breath. It didn’t help; every muscle remained clenched. If there was another f**king way . . . But there wasn’t, and he knew it. This was it.
His heart pounded as he pushed into the room. The fragrant, humid air wrapped around him. Everything smelled like her: spicy amber, sweet lilies. Beyond arousing. Like always, he turned hard and aching in an instant.
God, he loved this woman.
Seeing him, she gasped and scrambled for her towel on the basin. He grabbed the damp terry cloth first, loving the hell out of her in nothing but a lacy, baby blue thong. Her smooth olive skin and lush br**sts with those tight, rosy brown ni**les tempted him like nothing ever had. The dark ropes of her wet hair dripped down her back, framing her freshly scrubbed face. He couldn’t wait to get back inside her, to hold her again. Yesterday, she’d been dealing with too much, so he’d backed off, hadn’t pressed his way into the snug, silken clasp of her pu**y.
Tonight, all bets were off.
Realizing that he wasn’t going to give her the towel and that he blocked the path to her clothes, Kata faced him squarely, chin raised. “What now? I’ve told you how I feel and what needs to happen. If you’re here to stop me from leaving, you can’t.”
Ah, that stubborn streak of hers that intrigued him so much. Normally, he’d argue until he wore Kata down or seduce her until she gave in with a well-sated cry. This situation was far from normal. Until dawn, his most important role was to keep her safe. Nothing mattered more. Hunter had only one way left to do that . . . and give her what she wanted.
It was going to tear his f**king heart out.
He had no illusions; he’d never be the same. He’d be every inch the miserable bastard his father had been for the last fifteen lonely years, that Logan was now. Hunter had always sworn he’d do whatever it took to hang onto the one woman meant for him.
Goddamn it; in a handful of hours he’d have no choice but to let her go.
Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, restraining the urge to embrace Kata, stroke her tempting flesh—and never stop. “First, if you go home, you’re not only putting yourself in danger, but your family, too. You might not know everything about this ass**le threatening you, but he knows you. Why wouldn’t he come after those you love?”
Kata’s stubborn chin rose, but she nodded. Though she didn’t want to, she saw his point. Now he had to put all his cards on the table, even though he had the losing hand.
“I have a proposition, honey: Today, I’ll do whatever it takes to neutralize the threat against you. Tomorrow, you’ll be free in every way.” He clenched his fists. “I’ll sign the f**king divorce papers.”
As soon as he choked out the words, Hunter wished he could take them back. For him, she was it—had been since the moment he laid eyes on her. He wished he could make her understand, but unless she came to love him in return, accept his needs and her own, they were doomed.
Surprise flashed across her face, along with something else—regret, maybe . . . or was that his own wishful thinking?
She smoothed out her expression. “Th-thank you for finally being reasonable.”
Reasonable? In five seconds, she wouldn’t think so. “I’ll do that, if you spend tonight with me.”
Chapter One
Saturday, six days earlier
THE first thing Hunter Edgington thought when he saw the laughing brunette across the crowded Vegas hotel suite, champagne in hand, was that he couldn’t wait to f**k her.
His next thought was that it was a damn shame the curvaceous bombshell belonged to his former boot camp buddy, Ben.
“Does she know?”
Ben leaned against the wall and took the last swig of beer from his bottle, then yelled over the deafening party tunes. “Nope. Big surprise. She wanted to come to Vegas for her birthday and have her fantasy fulfilled. After the shit she’s been through lately, when she requested . . .” He let loose a beer belch, tossing his brown hair from his unfocused eyes. “I delivered.”
Maybe, but Hunter suspected Ben hadn’t spilled the whole story. He’d spent the last half-dozen years as a Navy SEAL and was still alive because he always listened to his gut. “You’re okay with this?”
“Yeah,” Ben slurred. “Fuck, she’s hot in bed. Passionate. All that Latina blood.” He leaned in and grinned. “She’s a screamer and scratcher.”
Ben’s words created a visual that had Hunter stone hard: himself with her, naked, slick with sweat. Her f**k-me mouth gasping his name. Her red manicured nails digging into his shoulders as he nuzzled her lush br**sts. While pounding her swollen pu**y relentlessly deep with his cock.
He wanted that—and would do whatever necessary to make it happen.
The brunette was deep in conversation with a slightly older Hispanic woman and two twentysomething twigs in stilettos with fake blond hair and equally fake br**sts. They made him yawn. But she . . .