The Criminal

Ch. 13: You look like a dream, Nicole.

Despite it being the weekend, I wake up at the crack of dawn. Hunter is already up and moving around, doing goodness knows what in my kitchen. I quickly throw on some sweats and head out there, deciding it's best I establish my dominance in the form of the silent treatment. He's scrambling eggs when I enter, completely naked bar his boxers.

"Morning," he offers.

I deliberately ignore him.

"Still pissed, I see."

His smirk—alongside the fact he's using my eggs—rubs me the wrong way.

"Look, I'm sorry—"

"You should be. It's all your fault."

His eyes narrow as he flips the eggs.

"I wouldn't be in this position if it wasn't for you."

"Bullshit!" he retorts.

I immediately stop my search for milk to scowl at him.

"You're the one who insisted on snooping," he argues. "You're the one who insisted on inserting herself into my life. Now, you're paying the consequences, and you're trying to blame me! That's not how it works, sweetheart."

"Don't fucking call me sweetheart!" I yell. "It's patronising."

He abandons his eggs to laugh at me. "I warned you, Nicole."

"Oh, you warned me!" I declare, stepping into his personal space. "Forgive me while get on my knees and kiss your fucking shoes!"

"Who are you really angry at, Nicole?" he asks, face inches away from mine.

He's still holding the spatula, angling it away from my body.

"YOU! I'm angry at you!"

"Why?"

"Because! Because—"

"Because you want me," he says, gaze darkening.

I refuse to fall for his stupid charm.

"You want me, but you can't have me."

"Fuck you!" I say, facing away.

He gently takes hold of my arm, guiding me back towards him and his stupid fucking eggs. The atmosphere changes the moment my body meets his. His skin is so taut and warm against the thin fabric of my T-Shirt, making it impossible to think. Yet again, I find myself drawn to his rose tattoo, only this time I'm close enough to do something about it. I long to trace the outline with my tongue and journey to other areas on his body. Hunter smells like peppermint. I wonder if he tastes like it too.

"I'm trying to resist you, Nicole," he says, voice barely a whisper.

I look into his eyes and match their intensity.

"Try harder," I reply.

His arms—on their own accord—pull me closer, our bodies now pressed together in an intimate embrace. I struggle to see past the smell of peppermint and lean into his hold, feeling so small against his huge build.

"I don't want you," I tell him, hardly convincing anyone.

He has the audacity to laugh.

"You're a dick."

"You can think someone is a dick and still want to fuck them, Nicole."

I shove on his chest, even though every part of my is screaming for more. "You're keeping secrets form me."

"So?"

"So, that's not nice."

"I've already told you why it's important you don't know about certain things."