17. Hunter
Hunter
L ottie. My jaw almost dropped to the floor when I saw her. My hands immediately wanted to touch her however I pleased—within reason. I couldn’t think of a single woman, whether that be a model, celebrity, or one I knew personally, that looked as enticing to me as she did in that moment.
My cock twitched. I didn’t know how the hell I would get through dinner without a constant erection with her looking like that.
I almost considered calling and canceling the reservation, but there were two problems with that: my phone was broken, and I’d already anonymously alerted the press to where we’d be. We needed the publicity.
I kissed her in the kitchen. I kissed her in the elevator.
I kissed her in the car, my hand halfway up her barely-there dress, a whispered stay quiet in her ear.
A part of me believed this goddess of a woman to be some kind of witch.
I’d never felt like this before; each time she stood in front of me, every part of me wanted her more—from my cock to my goddamn brain. I couldn’t get enough.
She sat across from me at the small table, her legs crossed. I already knew what was beneath that dress; I’d felt the garter belt and panties earlier. There seemed to be a part of her that was enjoying the attention and I could feel the brick wall crumbling, bit by bit, falling apart in my hands.
The light breeze of the rooftop terrace was a welcome addition to the near unbearable heat in my body.
“Have I told you how incredible you look tonight?” I teased, sipping at my glass of red wine as I leaned back in my chair, my foot tapping against the side of her heel.
“You have. This makes number four, Hunter,” she laughed.
I nodded to myself, trying to contain my chuckle. I looked out at the city below. I needed a distraction, something to give myself a break from imagining her bent over the table with my cock inside of her. The lights of Austin shone brightly, the panoramic view reminding me of a travel brochure.
“I made the horrible mistake of letting Dana pack for me,” she said, breaking off a piece of bread from the loaf they’d left for us along with a light olive oil and grated parmesan cheese. “Apparently, she thought I wouldn’t need pajamas or casual clothes. Just tight little dresses and lingerie.”
I nearly spat out my wine. “Christ.”
Something snapped within her then. I could tell by the look on her face, by the way her pupils dilated when she looked at me. Lottie’s smirk grew. “Mmm-hmm. There’s this lacy set she packed, entirely red, with cutouts for my breasts. And another that’s just practically a corset?—”
“No, nope, absolutely not,” I interrupted, pressing my hand down against the growing bulge beneath my slacks. “You cannot say that to me. Not here.”
She laughed, her mischievous grin only widening.
“What’s wrong?” She leaned back in her chair and slowly uncrossed her legs, giving me just a little peek at the black lace between them through the glass table separating us.
After a few seconds, she crossed them again.
“Or are you struggling not to think about how good you fucked me in your office?”
I’d already broken my phone. I really hoped I didn’t break the wine glass in my hand as well. I didn’t know what on earth had gotten into her, but whatever it was, it was going to make me explode.
“Can’t get that image of me licking your precum off my thumb out of your head, can you?”
“I swear to God, Lottie?—”
“Or are you thinking of all the things I might let you do to me? Are you imagining what the little set I have on under this dress looks like?” She made stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth look sexy, a little droplet of oil clinging to her lower lip.
She swiped it with her thumb, her eyes never leaving mine.
And then she slowly licked it off.
I set down the glass before it inevitably shattered in my palm. Blood was pooling in my cock, screaming at me to bury it somewhere warm and soft and wet. I pulled at the crotch seam, trying to give myself a little more room to breathe, but it was pointless.
“Lottie, if you don’t stop, I swear to God I will bend you over this table right now.” I snapped. My chest rose and fell with each breath, the heat of it reaching its peak.
Her blue eyes grew wide, staring me down, her lips parting in shock, feigning surprise. But then she sank back into seductress Lottie. “What if that’s exactly what I want?”
I could feel my nostrils flaring, could hear the little whistle as I breathed in and out. I might as well have had a gold ring through my nose and been pawing at the ground. “Don’t tease me, Charlotte.”
“Is it teasing if it’s what I want?”
The waiter stepped up to the table. I hadn’t even seen him coming, hadn’t noticed the flash of his white coat and the two plates he carried. He set the main dishes down in front of us, his eyes flicking not very subtly to the tent in my slacks, and scurried off without a word.
I took another sip of my wine and set the glass back down, careful not to keep it in my hand this time. “It’s teasing if you don’t want it right now . Because if that’s truly what you want, sweetheart, I’ll gladly get us a car to the hotel. I’d much rather eat you than this steak.”
Warmth spread across her cheeks in an instant.
————
I wasn’t entirely sure what came over either of us.
There was a connection there, a vibrating chord that was about to snap.
She picked at the last of her food as she continued to cross and uncross her legs.
I swiped a little bit of au jus that had trickled down from her lips; I wanted to avoid another olive oil-like incident.
The dirty talk had calmed a bit, but not the tension, not the need for her.
I took it upon myself to order a small dessert to share. I was already full, and anything heavy would easily tip me into food coma territory, rendering me useless if she truly wanted me to fuck her senseless the second we got back to the hotel.
I couldn’t help but feed her the whipped cream. That was far too sexy to pass up.
The moment the bill was paid, we were out the door and down the elevator, climbing into the back of a private car.
I couldn’t stop myself from touching her, from pushing my hands up into her hair and pulling her into my lap.
I kissed her greedily, hungrily, devouring every inch of her lipstick-covered mouth.
“Seatbelts,” the driver said.
“Mind your business and you’ll still get a tip,” I snapped, taking a moment to breathe and pulling a wad of hundreds from my breast pocket. I chucked them aimlessly into the front seat.
I needed her in any way she’d let me have her.
I showed that to her with my hands, my mouth, my fistfuls of her hair, and the hardness of my cock.
Whatever it was that was washing over me like a flood crashed over her as well, all inhibitions gone, her dress halfway down her torso and her fingers working at my buttons.
She’d let me fuck her in the back of the car if I wanted to, driver be damned.
Lottie noticed the car had stopped before I did.
I was too busy filling her with two of my fingers, too busy imagining it was my cock.
She gasped for breath, one hand pressed hard against my throat.
“We’re here,” she croaked, her voice breaking.
But the moment was too sweet, too delicious for me to care about the words. “Hunter.”
The door beside me swung open. “Please get the fuck out of my car.”
Breathing through the haze, I slid my fingers out of her.
Wiping them on my slacks I wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling up her dress with my free hand before dragging her out of the car with me.
“Apologies,” I said, wiping my grinning mouth with the back of my hand as the driver glared at me.
“You better not have left a mess.”
Lottie’s answering giggle told me that she’d probably leaked onto the leather seats. Christ.
I didn’t care that I probably had lipstick on my face. Didn’t care that my shirt was half unbuttoned and untucked, that my cock was so swollen it ached. I pulled her stumbling frame into the lobby and around the corner to the elevators, hoping to God we wouldn’t have to wait long.
“You look ridiculous,” she laughed, her smile all teeth and truth. Her lipstick was smudged across her chin, her hair knotted, and one shoulder of her dress was hanging off.
“So do you.”
She practically climbed me the moment the doors shut. Her mouth on mine, her hands in my hair, one leg hooked around my hip. I was half tempted to fuck her right there, to take that chance of the elevator stopping on a random floor, a crowd of horrified people waiting to go up.
“I need you,” she whined, her fingers digging into the sides of my neck. She bit at my jaw, sinking her teeth in gently and tugging at it. “I need this.”
“Patience,” I laughed, though I knew I had none either. “We’re almost there.”
“I don’t care.” One hand went to my belt, fumbling with the clasp, but I covered it with my own to stop her. Although I was more than keen for a repeat of what happened in my office, we were too close to making it to the room without a public indecency charge.
I could use her weakness against her, though.
I slid my hand around her throat, loving the little squeak she made as every part of her stilled. “You can wait,” I said, coating my words in confidence, treating it like a demand. “Unless you want carpet-burned knees, you will wait.”
Her eyes widened. The elevator dinged.
I thanked whatever higher power existed that no one was waiting for the elevator as we stepped out, Lottie’s hand locked in mine. It took us all of two seconds to get inside the suite before I was on her like a lion pouncing on its prey.
To the left of the door, the kitchen counter wrapped around the side of the hallway. I kicked the door shut behind us and grabbed her by the waist, spinning her, and pushing her up against the marble. She bent over it on instinct.