CHAPTER 16

 
 
Exciting, invigorating, sensual, and
heartwarming—that was the list of words Hunter would use to
describe the best sex ever. But what Hunter had just experienced
last night with his mysterious goddess didn’t even come close to
that list. In fact, it was better, so much better that it
superseded the list and should be classified in its own category as
the most intense and heartfelt sexual experience ever. The kind
that made you cry, smile, and go all giddy in the stomach at the
same time.
This experience wasn’t just the mechanical
process of putting it in, climaxing, then taking it out again. No,
this went beyond that. This was like a soul connection, like he’d
just found his other half. And he thought he didn’t have another
half.
They did it twice last night. Both times she
submitted without fail, which just excited him even more. And both
times he admitted that he’d floated to heaven and back.
Hunter had never felt so much joy as when he
sensed the orange light touching his eyelids. At last he could see
her face. Last night, the curiosity to see her was so strong that
he almost turned on the bedside lamp, but because he was so hungry
for her again after round one, he went to indulge her sweet nectar
once again. And by the end of round two, he was so exhausted that
he had fallen asleep.
That was a first for him because usually
after his midnight exercises with women, it would take at least
three to four rounds before he could be induced to sleep. But his
goddess had put him to sleep only after round two. And the peculiar
thing was when he woke, he felt so refreshed, which never happened
before in his whole life.
Hunter laughed in giddiness, happy that
after what they’d experienced last night, he would get to see the
one woman who could actually put him to sleep, and sleep soundly
too. He couldn’t wait to nestle himself beside her; in fact, he
wanted to spoon her right now.
Hunter promised to himself this morning that
he’d make it his mission to see her face and know her name. Just
the image of her blond hair in the nightclub wasn’t sufficient
enough to embed that image in his memory. It was so mundane that
his brain discarded it into the junk department. No, the image he
wanted to embed in his mind would be her sleeping face with her
blond hair cascading like a paper fan on the pillow, spilling out
in disarray. He wanted that image to stay glued in his mind for all
eternity because he felt such a strong connection with her. So come
heaven or hell, he would at least get to know that much about her.
Hell, he’d already decided since last night that he was going to
propose she become his girlfriend. Now that was an honor most girls
wouldn’t be willing to pass up. Perhaps once he’d seen her face and
knew her name, they could go for round three.
Yes, round three, Hunter thought, as
he could feel himself going hard with just that idea alone. He
wanted to see her cry out his name when she floated to heaven and
then back. He wanted to see her expression when she hugged him
after their intimate moment. With that thought in mind, he felt
around for the warm body lying beside him, only to jerk upright and
swear vigorously when the warm body was nowhere to be found.
Hunter felt hot and cold all of a sudden. He
pulled at his hair in frustration. More curses gnashed out of his
mouth and he smashed his fist violently against the pillow. He was
always the one to leave first, not the woman. Now the role had been
reversed. He didn’t like this feeling at all.
Where was she? Where did she go? He needed
to find her. And find her fast, because he wasn’t sure if he could
sleep with another woman again, what with the memory his mysterious
goddess had imparted on him.
Ahh, damn shit. Why did she have to leave
so fast? Just when his morning wood was up too.
 

 
“Who are you after, Mr. Silverton?” the
Korean waiter asked Hunter, who came stalking into their club at
exactly seven a.m. in the morning, sporting a hairstyle that
resembled a sparrow’s nest, with his dusty-corn tresses spiking in
all directions.
“One of your waiters, a kiwi boy to be
precise, about yea high.” Hunter got straight to the point,
indicating the height with his hand up to his shoulder. The
so-called waiter he was after was in fact Max. “Did you see him?
Last night.”
“I don’t think we have anyone that short
working here.” The waiter shook his head, replying blandly, then
felt a little afraid at the sudden flare that appeared in Hunter’s
eyes. Okay, that was definitely the wrong answer.
“Look, I just need to find him so he can
help me look for a certain woman, the one who—” Hunter stopped
short. Should he tell this waiter about his circumstances last
night? Surely he didn’t need to elaborate all that much, but he was
at his wits end here. He really needed to find his mysterious woman
fast. The morning wood he sported earlier was only appeased thanks
to her faceless memory and a long shower. How pathetic could he
get? It was that blonde. But try as he might, he just couldn’t
picture her in his goddess’s place.
“Oh, are you talking about that blonde from
last night?” the waiter asked, suddenly remembering the woman who
had asked him to hand the note to Mr. Silverton, the man standing
right in front of him now. In fact, she had come in again bright
and early at exactly 6:30 a.m.
“Yes, yes, that was the one.” Hunter
nodded.
“Oh, she came in here this morning and gave
me a note for you.” The waiter went to the back office, muttering,
“I’ll just grab it for you. She looked really pissed by the way. I
tell you, Mr.…”
Hunter ignored the waiter’s comment and just
tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for him to extract the note
from his office.
Grabbing the paper and thanking the waiter,
Hunter rushed outside and dialed her number.
“Hey,” Hunter said soothingly, using his
best flirty tone.
“Who’s this?” came an angry voice.
Hunter frowned. That didn’t sound like his
mysterious woman from last night.
“Your mysterious guy…” Hunter sapped all his
energy on perfecting his voice so he could seduce her and hoped she
would run straight to a taxi with her lingerie on, straight into
his arms so they could commence round three. “From last night. We
had the best sex. Remember?” he added. “Listen, I was thinking we
could—”
“You bastard!”
Hunter was struck speechless when his
mysterious goddess interrupted his speech.
“I waited for you last night,” she shouted
through the phone, causing his eardrum to ring. “All night, in
fact. All by myself. You didn’t even turn up. You playboy. Don’t
ever call this number again.” Then the line went dead.
Hunter stared at the phone blankly, confused
about the turn of events.
He scratched his head. If his mysterious
woman was waiting for him last night and he didn’t turn up,
then—
Just who the hell did I sleep with last
night?
 

 
Anton had wanted her. Despite his being a
bit drunk last night, she was certain he had clearly confessed as
much. But just to succumb to his advances because he’d confessed
and called her his mysterious goddess? She just couldn’t
believe she could be this lewd and naïve.
She remembered her heart beating a thousand
beats per minute when he kissed and hugged her. It felt so
wonderful and so beautiful that she was lost in an endless world of
pleasure and magic, and when she woke again, the next thing she
knew, she had already walked out of the hotel and was now wandering
around the streets aimlessly like she’d lost her mind.
Why did she behave like this? Why didn’t she
wait until morning to confront him about what they’d done? She
could discuss it, explain to him her problem. Then maybe they could
form a real relationship.
But she knew she couldn’t. The truth was she
was afraid when morning came, all the magic would disappear and the
spell would be broken. She didn’t want that. She wanted to cherish
that memory forever. And as a bonus, she also had Anton’s sperm,
even though it would seem she had stolen it. Then again, he had
stolen her innocence, so that made them even.
So here she was, still in her own reverie,
wandering around Central Queenstown with many tourists milling
around her, going in and out of the many cafes and breakfast bars
at the early hour of seven a.m.
The sun was starting to crawl slowly from
behind the majestic mountains in the east, sparkling mountain peaks
like white crystals.
She checked her phone. She’d been walking
for two hours now. Spying a park bench, she decided to rest for a
bit. Her gaze turned toward the direction of Silverton Hotel. She
didn’t want to go to her suite yet. She didn’t want to see Max yet.
She could deal with him later. For now, she just wanted to relish
in those memories a little longer, because she knew if she returned
to the hotel, reality would hit when she saw the real Anton, all
somber.
How would he react when he saw her next?
Would he remember last night? Did he text her only because he
wanted to sleep with her? So many questions, not enough answers.
What should she do if she saw him again? How should she react? But
to tell the truth, she felt a bit in love with the Anton of last
night, more than the daytime Anton. He felt so very different, so
close and so intimate, unlike the cool and collected man who only
meant business.
Well, there was nothing to do now anyway.
Best just let nature take its course. Not long to go now before she
fell pregnant… she hoped.
The smell of freshly baked bread and brewed
coffee filled the air, reaching her olfactory senses and sending a
signal to her stomach, which gave out an embarrassing growl just to
let her know it was past time to break her fast. Having nothing
else to do, she stepped into one of the cafés and ordered her
breakfast. Nothing like pancakes and a fresh pot of aromatic green
tea to start the day and face reality.
When the food arrived, her mouth salivated
on its own accord. She took a bite of the yummy-looking pancake
dripping with strawberries and honey, topped with banana on the
side. It was amazingly delicious. The honey on her tongue was so
sweet it reminded her of the kiss last night before Anton… before
Anton… Clarice couldn’t finish her thought as her cheeks grew hot,
blooming red as the strawberry on her plate. She guessed the
feeling of them being together would be forever ingrained in her
mind.
Clarice stored this thought at the back of
her mind, and she promised she would revisit it and tell her baby
that she or he was a product of their love, even if Anton was under
the influence of alcohol.
Yes, she would do that she thought as she
continued to chew her breakfast slowly, when a sight not three
tables away almost caused her to choke on her meal, breaking into
her thoughts.
Clarice blinked and then she blinked again.
No, it must be an apparition, she thought. The person
sitting three tables away from her, all consumed in chomping away
on his steak, face masked with anger like someone had stolen his
beloved Ferrari, looked just like that Casanova from back in
Auckland.
No, this was Queenstown. Surely she wouldn’t
be running into him again. So she rubbed her eyes twice to fend
away the illusion. But no matter how many times she rubbed them,
Hunter’s image was still sitting there eating his steak.
Yikes, it really was him. What was that
Casanova doing here anyway? Horrible, this was horrible. Why of all
places must she run into him here? Why did heaven decide for her to
see him now?
Hiding behind the oversized menu so Hunter
couldn’t spot her from this distance, Clarice ate her meal like she
vying for the Guinness World Record of who could eat the fastest.
Almost choking a few times because her mind was no longer on her
food and too consumed in looking at Hunter to make sure he wasn’t
looking her way, she poured some piping hot green tea into her mug
and automatically chucked the whole contents of the cup down her
throat, and dear heaven, she almost screamed in pain when the
scalding hot liquid scorched her throat.
Serves me right for eating like this,
Clarice thought, but she had to make her escape ASAP. She knew if
he saw her, he would ruin her day again, like all the previous
times they’d met. Today, though, she didn’t want to see him. She
wanted to be alone, to replay the scene of last night, so escape
she must.
Without further ado, she got up from her
chair and paid for her meal, then briskly walked away from the
café, heading back toward Silverton Hotel. She didn’t breathe a
sigh of relief until she was in the elevator, coming face to face
with a painting of red roses.
Examining the painting with the intricate
petals and vines winding around each other, Clarice felt a sudden
desire well up inside her, which in turn made her cheeks burn.
Remembering last night, she shyly turned away from the painting,
thinking about Anton and herself, bodies entwined together like
those rose vines. Eager to get another sneak peek, she turned back
to the painting, then was suddenly reminded of Elise and Whitney.
Clarice mentally noted to herself that she must pay a visit to both
the girls when she returned to Auckland, to inform them of her
adventure through Max’s scheme.
Behind her, Clarice heard the elevator ding,
indicating the door was closing. Suddenly, a yawn overcame her.
With her eyes closed and her body slouched against the wall, she
suddenly realized she was tired. Luckily, she still had today to
spend in the hotel before flying back home tomorrow.
She wondered what Max was up to last night,
but her thoughts were cut short when the elevator door dinged open
again.
Clarice opened her eyes again and
straightened herself, not wanting anyone to see her in such a
state. It wouldn’t be right for a gum specialist to act like a
child, closing her eyes and slouching around like she could sleep
anywhere.
Once she got her posture together, she
waited patiently for the other occupant to appear, but when he did
appear, she realized heaven was never going to be on her side when
it came to that Casanova.