Hunter
twenty-three
I LOVE LOOKING at Stevie. It’s a dopamine hit every time I see her face.
She looks so fucking beautiful right now, thoroughly and properly fucked, her cheeks flushing red, lips parted. I kiss her mouth again, my cock still inside her glorious cunt.
That was an epic fuck, and I want to savor it for as long as possible.
“Can I please touch you now?” she asks.
“Mm. Since you asked so nicely.”
She puts her hands flat on my chest. I’ve noticed she likes touching me there, and my abs. As expected, she runs her hands down my chest and over my abs, slowly going over each muscle, staring at them like she’s never seen me shirtless before.
I wrap my fingers around her wrists, pulling her hands away. I can’t let her keep touching me – every touch threatens to snap my control, which is always a little tenuous when she’s around.
She makes an adorable sound of protest that makes my cock twitch. Yup, time to put some distance between us. I pull out of her pussy and she whimpers, reaching out to me. I step aside, put my cock back in my boxer briefs and zip up my jeans.
“We’re done for today,” I tell her. “Get dressed.” I leave the bathroom and go back downstairs, sinking into the couch in the living room. I turn on the TV and try to shake the sex endorphins out of my head. I need some control back. But, damn, I’m gonna sleep real good tonight.
Stevie joins me a few minutes later, sitting about a foot away from me on the couch.
We watch the hockey game on the TV in silence for a while.
“By the way,” Stevie says. “Celeste asked me to be like a sort of bridesmaid at the party next month.”
I turn my head towards her. “A bridesmaid?”
“Not really a bridesmaid. Just like a member of the wedding party. We will basically be her entourage. That’s what she said anyway. And you’ll be a part of it too.”
“Oh, I will, will I? And when was I to be informed of this? The party is in less than three weeks.”
Stevie’s eyes are wide as she looks at me. “I don’t know. She only told me earlier today.”
I shake my head. “Fuck.” I don’t want to be any more involved in this stupid wedding than I have to be. But I doubt there’s a way out of it. My father will expect me to do it and smile the whole time. Maybe even dance like a monkey at his command. I mean, I’m basically already doing that.
“Fine, whatever,” I say. “I’m assuming you agreed to it?”
“Yes. I thought it would be rude to refuse.”
“Great.” I turn up the volume on the TV. The sex endorphins are definitely gone now.
“I’m sorry. Are you mad? I can call her and tell her I don’t want to do it.”
I shake my head. “I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated at the whole situation, but it’s fine. I’ll do what I have to do.”
We return to watching the game in silence.
The Boston Bruins are absolutely crushing the Philadelphia Flyers.
They scored twice in the first two minutes of the game, then went on to score three more times in the second period, eventually winning 5-1.
I watched this game live a few days ago, but the replay is just as exciting.
Sometimes I still can’t believe the Bruins have drafted me.
They’ve won the Stanley Cup six times, and their rivalry with the Montreal Canadiens is legendary.
I can’t wait to sign with them. Hopefully.
Stevie shifts beside me, sighing.
“Bored?” I ask.
“No. It’s fun to watch.”
“Good.”
“I just…”
“What?”
“I was just wondering if you’re…you know…happy about your dad’s marriage. I realized that we never talked about it. And I feel like you’re not happy.”
I give her a look. “Since when do you and I have conversations about my life or my feelings?”
Stevie looks taken aback. “I – I thought…”
“You thought what?”
“That maybe you’d wanna talk about it.”
I turn my attention back to the TV. “I don’t.”
“Okay.”
I know I’m being an asshole, but I don’t care. She’s not about to be under the impression that we are a real couple who share their thoughts and feelings with each other. Fuck, I barely even open up to my close friends, and I’ve known some of them since hockey camp.
“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” Stevie says after a while.
I turn off the TV, suddenly feeling ravenous. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Dinner?”
“Yes. I’m starving. I can make us something. What do you want?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Pasta? Steak? A burger? Rice and veggies?”
Stevie has the cutest little shocked expression on her face. Instant dopamine hit.
“Um, pasta sounds good.”
“Great.” I rise and head toward the kitchen.
I take out the pappardelle pasta and frozen shrimp.
I take out the steak (that one’s for me), pots and pans, salt and butter and garlic.
Cooking is going to relax me. And feeding Stevie is some sort of new fetish I’ve developed.
Taking care of her feels too good. That’s why I’m never breaking our contract.
My princess will never be broke again.
Once the food is ready, I plate her pasta dish and take it and my steak to the living room.
I pour her some lemonade and grab a can of Coke for myself.
For a second, I sit there, watching Stevie coil pasta around her fork and take a bite.
She licks some sauce off her lips. A bone-deep satisfaction settles into me.
Then I turn my attention to my own dinner.
“So, you like Celeste, huh?” I ask between bites.
“I thought you didn’t wanna talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about me. But I like talking about you.”
Stevie huffs in annoyance. “That’s not fair.”
“Nothing is fair between us.”
She takes a bite of the shrimp and chews, looking thoughtfully into the distance. “Celeste seems sweet,” she finally says. “She’s much younger than your dad. But some women like older men. She’s totally in love. I’m happy for her. And she’s been very kind to me. So, yeah, I guess I do like her.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s good that you two get along.”
“You should probably try to get to know her better, too.”
“We’re not talking about me, remember?”
“Sorry.”
I nod at her plate. “How’s the pasta?”
“Oh my god, it’s delicious. You’re an amazing cook.”
“Come over and I’ll cook for you every night. Whatever you want. After I fuck you senseless, of course.”
Stevie sets her plate on the coffee table and shifts so she’s facing me. “Hunter, I don’t want you to pay me for, um, that anymore.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s wrong. I should’ve never agreed to it. I should’ve tried harder to find a job.”
“I thought you were trying hard.”
She sighs. “I mean, yeah, I was but—”
“But nothing. You weren’t getting anywhere even though you were applying nonstop. You were donating plasma for money, for fuck’s sake. I wasn’t about to let you get evicted from your place.”
“I know. I know. But getting paid for…that…it’s like I’m a –”
“Only I can break the contract, and I’ll break it on my terms, not yours. Understood?”
“You can’t be serious about that!”
I glare at her. “This is the second time you’ve said I’m not serious about the contract. The contract is binding, Stevie. I signed it. You signed it. You don’t get to dictate any terms now. And, yes, I’m fucking serious.”
I stare her down until she blinks and looks away. Good. She better never doubt me again. She goes back to eating her food and I finish my steak. When she’s done with the pasta, I grab both our plates and take them to the kitchen. Stevie follows me.
“Do you have ice cream?” she asks. “Or maybe like a popsicle or something?”
I pull open the freezer drawer. “Of course, I do.”
“Oh my god, you have a million different kinds.” She looks at me in surprise.
I shrug. “Popsicles are my favorite.”
She grabs a cherry popsicle, grinning like a little kid. “Thank you.”
I rinse our plates and put them in the dishwasher, then grab a grape popsicle and return to the living room. Stevie sits cross-legged on the couch, licking her popsicle and flipping through movies on one of the many streamer sites I pay for.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asks. “What’s your favorite genre?”
“Thrillers.”
“Okay, how about a romcom?” She grins, waggling her eyebrows.
“I’ll watch whatever you want to watch, princess.” As long as she keeps licking that popsicle like it’s my dick. Her lips are already turning red from the dye. Another dopamine hit.
“Ooh, how about this one? It’s a historical romance.”
I shrug and lean back against the couch cushions, taking a bite out of my popsicle and crushing it between my teeth.
Stevie stares at me. “You’re supposed to suck a popsicle, Hunter,” she says very matter-of-factly.
“Yeah? Show me how it’s done, then.”
She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”
“You walked right into that one, baby.”
“What kind of a person bites a popsicle? That’s crazy.”
“The kind that had to devour them in secret as a child.”
That comment makes her jaw drop. “You weren’t allowed popsicles as a kid?”
“Nope. No sweets at all. Maybe some chocolate once a month, if I was very, very good.”
Her brows knit, and I know she’s feeling sorry for my younger self. “That’s so sad,” she says.
“Don’t worry. I’m over it. I never run out of popsicles now.”
“Hunter…”
“Drop it. Let’s watch this dumb movie you picked.”
She grabs the remote and presses play. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as she continues to lick and suck her popsicle, and I hide a grin. Maybe I’ll have her suck me off tonight. She’s definitely staying over, because I want to wake up tomorrow morning with my face buried in her tits.
The movie has more longing looks and yearning than I care for, but I force myself to watch it. Stevie looks engrossed, watching it with wide eyes.
“How can you watch this shit?” I finish my popsicle and toss the stick onto the coffee table.
Stevie side-eyes me. “It’s an interesting story even if there aren’t any car chases or whatever stupid thing you like.”
I smirk. “You think I like car chases?”
“Probably. Or explosions. Or bank robberies. Or serial killers. Or—”
I pounce on her. Her popsicle stick falls to the floor. I pull her legs until she’s lying flat on the couch and cover her with my body. “You know what I like? Hot sex scenes. Dirty talk. Watching the actress get railed and begging for more. The way you do when I fuck you.”
Stevie’s eyes are wide, lips parted, and her breath comes in short bursts. She’s turned on and I’m barely touching her. She tries to wiggle away from me, but I pin her arms to her sides and fully lower my body onto hers.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight and then again in the morning. I wanna bruise that beautiful pussy of yours.” I brush my lips softly against hers. Her entire body is trembling.
“And I’m going to pay you for it, and you’re going to accept every last cent.” I rub my nose against hers. “Understand?”
She nods, her breath catching in her throat.
“That’s my good girl.”