Chapter 6 Out Of Focus

• Despite the blast of heat from the hallway floor vent that toasts her quivering legs, Elle shivers. She leaned out, her fist poised to knock about half an inch from the bedroom door.
• Hunter was expecting her. For her, he left the front door unlocked. She can't think straight any longer. Memories pierced her ears like bullets. Hunter's fingers stroking her bare arm, his lips on hers, his tongue... Damn!
• His grandfather died recently, and all she can think about is that night. The one that should never have happened, the one she dreams about, the one she relives every time she shuts her eyes.
• Forget that she hadn't heard from him in a long time. He's also her brother's best friend.
• Hunter Moretti will never be hers, and she has accepted this.
• She had intended to accept it once she arrived at college, but that did not occur. None of the men she met could compete with Hunter.
• She couldn't locate the same darkest chocolate brown pools that beckoned her to drown in them, the ones that gleamed with enthusiasm over the release of a new Marvel superhero film, the ones that deepened with passion when they looked at her.
• And she couldn't find a more biteable pair of lips, ones that tasted like a variety of Jolly Rancher flavors, ones she wanted plastered against her own, and then on other parts of her body.
• She did, however, try to get over him. She dated a lot of men. She attended fraternity gatherings. She joined a sorority. She drank away her rage and misery. She's tried everything she can to wipe Hunter's memory from her mind.
• The issue was that her mind wasn't the only thing he'd claimed. He had complete hold over her heart and soul, and eradicating him proved more difficult than she expected.
• As a result, she was standing outside his bedroom door. He texted her, and she showed up.
• She twisted the cool brass doorknob in her trembling palm. She squinted as the door creaked open in the dimly lit room.
• His bed is in the very back end of the large room, and he's lying on his back, tossing a football up and down. He doesn't look up, which should be Elle's first indication that he doesn't care about her. She clenched her fists, attempting to keep her despair at bay.
• He never called, texted, or emailed her. Not till today, and of course, she bolts the moment he asks. She is constantly making bad decisions. She was nothing if not dependable.
• He is just concerned with his business transactions. He'd never allow anything, least of all Elle, to jeopardize his place in life.
• It had been a kiss. She must put it behind her. That's not why she came. She had come to see Grandpa Victor, not Hunter.
• Maybe if she keeps telling herself such lies, she'll eventually convince her heart they're true.
• Her heart thudded against her ribcage as she moved closer to the bed. Perspiration beads rose along her neck, a common reaction to his presence. Her tummy has become twisted like a Bavarian pretzel.
• Will she ever be able to move on from him? And why is he not stopping throwing the football? He is the one who contacted her.
• He sits up immediately after making one final catch. His eyes aren't glistening. They're dark, lost, and void. Lifeless. The vacuous stare causes her chest to tighten, and she comes to a halt, unsure what to do next.
• He crawls off the bed and toward her. His dark hair looks ruffled as if he'd just awoken from a restless sleep. There are bags under his eyes, and his ordinarily red cheeks are nearly colorless.
• When his hands grasp her shoulders, tears well up in her eyes. "Elle," he says, his voice low and gravelly.
• "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "He was such a good man, and I feel sorry for you all."
• He moves his hands to her hair, wrapping a hot pink tendril around his index finger. "You dyed your hair."
• Her fingers flew to the thick streaks she'd just put to her blonde hair's ends. "Yeah..." she breathed him in, already buzzed from the aroma of watermelon Jolly Ranchers.
• "I like it."
• "Thanks," she said quietly.
• He walks up to his desk and nods. "He got it for you for Christmas. It's the limited edition."
• When her gaze is drawn to the gift, a sob rises in her throat, memories of their lengthy Scrabble games flooding her mind.
• It seemed like a lifetime ago when things were so easy, and her biggest difficulty was deciding which phrase would get her the most points during their competitive games. "He was a gem among men. It's wonderful. I'll always cherish that."
• "He was missing you at Christmas. I promised to get it to you before you returned to school."
• "I should have seen him. I'll never be able to forgive myself for not having the opportunity to say goodbye."
• "Don't be too hard on yourself. That would not be acceptable to him. And you’re here now.”
• "Yeah…" Elle's heart is pounding like a jackhammer, drowning out everything, and she almost misses his response. A golf ball-sized lump has taken up residence in her throat, making it nearly impossible to elicit a response.
• But, as it turns out, talking is overrated.
• He draws her in, bending down to press his swollen lips against hers - hot, intense, and greedy for any crumb she's willing to drop. His powerful hands grasp her lengthy hair, his kiss becoming more intense with need.
• She melted into his warmth as she put her arms around his tall, muscular figure.
• Her mind is screaming for her to back up, to stop this madness. This is entirely unlike Hunter. He never lets go or reveals his hand. That is why he is such an essential member of the family.
• He isn't genuinely interested in Elle. Does he, or doesn't he?
• His fingertips slide under her sweater to her back, pressing onto her spine.
• Her knees buckled, and she fell against him. It's not good. Is she willing to be manipulated? To be his fucking comfort?
• With each nibble and tickle of the scruff peppering his cheeks, his lips scorch a route down her neck and then to her ear, sparking her desire. Her pants are already sticking to her body, saturated with a passion that only he can fulfill.
• If Noah knew where she was right now, he'd kill her. Her father will never be aware. This is something that can happen. She wants it to happen...
• A strong, musky aroma sweeps around her brain, bewitching her and drowning out any lingering semblance of sensitivity in her highly aroused body.
• He grabs her sweater hem and pulls it over her head. It collapses onto the carpet, joined by the black miniskirt and tights he removes from her legs. He takes a few steps back, peering at her like a hungry lion might at his prey. Her bra and pantyhose were identical. She was waxing.
• Reality strikes her across the face like a rubber glove. She would not be standing here if Grandpa Victor was still alive.
• Hunter's lips press into hers, leaving no time for that notion to linger.
• Elle fumbled with his belt buckle as his hot tongue wrapped around hers, delving deep and asserting its claim. He kicks his boxers and jeans to the floor before pulling her into his powerful arms and tossing her onto the bed.
• He yanks his black t-shirt off, revealing pecs and abs she's only fantasized about licking. The warmth crawls up her neck and into her cheeks, and it pools between her thighs.
• He approaches her, his fingers wrapping between the edges of her lace thong and pulling it away from her aching pussy. He reaches around her and unclasps her bra without breaking his gaze. It shattered on the floor, and she kicked it out, every nerve ending in her body screaming for attention.
• The intensity of his look makes her shudder. His cock's swelling head scrapes against her slit, and she lets out a little gasp. She is at a loss for what to do next.
• She'd never seen a naked guy before, let alone been naked with one. She kissed males and even let them feel her, but that was about it. It's too difficult for her to close her eyes and pretend that any of those faceless men is Hunter.
• It works until the truth prevents her from going any further.
• But she remained silent. She has loved Hunter for as long as she can remember, and if she tells him she has never done this before, he may quit. And he requires it. She requires it.
• Nobody will ever find out—neither her nor his relatives.
• He helps her onto the mattress and slides his body into hers, flexing his chiseled, tight muscles as he adjusts his weight. His fingers tangle in her hair, his eyes full of need and perhaps more so with sorrow.
• Elle wasn't sure who it was for either losing his grandfather or losing her. But there's something deeper going on that she can't see. Perhaps she doesn't want to.
• She drew him down to her, desperate to take him in, to feel him move within her, to know what it was like to be alive finally.
• This moment will mean little to him but everything to her.
• He takes a condom from the bedside table and slides it over his head, positioning himself at her opening. She swallowed hard, her pulse racing with each passing second as she braced herself.
• His hands go up and down the sides of her torso, his determined fingertips tingling her flesh. They grabbed her hips and pushed them up, giving him leverage. He lowers his head to her stomach, his lips scorching her skin as they creep up to her mouth.
• Only when his lips meet hers does he surge inside her body, tearing through her innocence while making her feel whole.
• He ruined her in that split second.
• She bites down the scream that tries to leave her lips as she digs her fingers into his back. Each initial thrust is excruciatingly painful until the beautiful point where it feels so impressive takes over.
• His strokes were long and deep, and she clenched her fists to draw him in even further. His hand reaches around the small of her back, tilting her higher, allowing him full access to all she has to offer.
• As his firm cock rockets her into an orbit she had no idea existed, a tingling feeling rumbles through her core and erupts. She lets out a little gasp, which he muffles with his mouth.
• Their bodies are bound together, moving in unison, physically linked. However, she can still sense the nothingness that consumes him. Even the lovely aftershocks coursing through her body can't conceal the reality that he's not here with her, not with his heart.
• He grabs her behind and dives deeper, quicker, and harder.
• His actions become almost mechanical, impaling her with a determination that will hurt like hell later, assuming she can even walk. He eventually roars his climax and collapses on the bed beside her, facing the window.
• There are no words spoken. She lay next to him, befuddled, vulnerable, and troubled. She's given him everything, and he can't even bring himself to look her in the eyes?a