Chapter Forty-Three
Emily
We don’t make it to Hunter’s house. Not even close. The moment we leave the parking lot of the diner, it’s like a switch flips inside of me and my body realizes that it has something else to focus on other than stress and the impending atomic-bomb-level sickness of sitting down to a drink with Jay, and that something else to focus on also is the man that I love who does things to my body that makes me feel like I’m floating among the clouds.
So I kiss his ear as soon as he starts the truck.
When we leave the parking lot, I’m nibbling his earlobe and whispering to him about how badly I want to suck his cock.
When we turn left at the intersection just outside the parking lot, my hand settles on his crotch and, to my delight, I feel he’s already rock hard.
When we reach the next stoplight, I'm unzipping his jeans, my fingers eagerly seeking what lies beneath. Hunter groans, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he struggles to focus on the road while we drive through the intersection. He says something — a warning, maybe — but I'm already lowering my head, taking him into my mouth. The truck swerves slightly, and Ethan curses under his breath. I feel powerful, dangerous, completely out of control.
“Oh fuck, Emily,” he breathes. “I just love what your mouth does to my cock.”
There’s more he wants to say, but I take him deeper in my throat and tease his balls with my fingertips, which turns his words into nothing more than a moan.
We reach another intersection, and I’m lost in my work — fuck off, anxiety — and roll to a stop. Hunter’s hands knot in my hair, guiding my head as I bob up and down on his cock.
The light turns green, but neither of us notices for a long while. A honk from behind startles Hunter into action as he puts his foot on the gas and guides us through the intersection. The car behind us speeds around us, honking the entire time.
We barely make it another block before Hunter yanks the wheel, pulling into an empty parking lot behind a closed convenience store. The moment he cuts the engine, he's on me, his hands pulling me away from his cock — the fucking nerve — and then his mouth crashes against mine as he pulls me into his lap.
This is who I am now. I’m the girl who punches cops, carries a gun, and fucks her biker boyfriend in public… and I like it, the thought briefly flits through my mind as I lock lips with Hunter and tease his cock with my free hand, stroking his hard shaft and imagining just what angle I want to take when I mount him. His cock pulses in my tight grip and I grin. Yes, I like it a lot.
"Fuck, I need you," he growls, his voice husky with desire.
Hunter's hands are everywhere, roaming my body with a desperate urgency. He pushes my shirt up, his calloused fingers tracing the curve of my breast before he cups it roughly. I gasp into his mouth as he pinches my nipple, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
“Take me, then,” I say.
In one swift motion, Hunter guides me back, laying me across the bench seat of the truck. He leans over me, his eyes dark with desire. "You asked for it."
He yanks down my jeans and underwear in one go, leaving me exposed and aching for him. I spread my legs wider, inviting him in. Hunter doesn't hesitate. He lowers his face and kisses my pussy. I moan.
Hunter's tongue darts out, tracing my folds with agonizing slowness. I arch my back, desperate for more contact. He chuckles against me; the vibration sending shivers through my body.
"Patience, baby," he murmurs, his breath hot against my sensitive skin.
But patience hasn’t been my strong suit lately, especially not now. I tangle my fingers in his hair, urging him closer. He takes the hint, his tongue delving deeper, circling my clit with practiced precision. I bite my lip to stifle a moan, suddenly aware of our semi-public location, then let it out anyway, because fuck it .
Hunter's fingers join his mouth, teasing my entrance before sliding inside. The dual sensation is almost too much to bear. I rock my hips against his face, chasing the building pressure.
"Hunter, please," I gasp, not even sure what I'm begging for.
He knows, though. He always knows.
His tongue moves faster, caressing my clit exactly how I need it, while his fingers hit me in just the right spot. In moments, my orgasm crashes over me in waves; my hips buck against his face; my thighs clamp down on his cheeks, holding him just so; my lips part and release a shivering scream that comes from the deepest part of me.
“Hunter, oh, fuck, Hunter ,” I moan. I shake as I cling to him, and each slow lick from his tongue sends teasing aftershocks through my orgasm-wracked body.
After only a moment, he rises and locks eyes with me. His are blue fire that burns right through to the heart of me. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you, now.”
I sit, press my hands to his chest, and push him back into position. In one motion, I slip a leg over him and mount him. My hand grips his thick cock, guiding it to my entrance, and a gasp bursts from me as he fills me.
I sink down onto Hunter's cock, reveling in the delicious stretch as he fills me completely. His hands grip my hips, guiding my movements as I ride him. The truck's suspension creaks with each thrust, but I couldn't care less about who might hear us.
"Fuck, Emily," Hunter groans, his head falling back against the headrest. "You feel so goddamn good."
I lean forward, bracing my hands on his broad shoulders as I increase my pace. The new angle allows him to hit even deeper, and I cry out in pleasure. Hunter's hands slide up my sides, pushing my shirt higher until he can cup my breasts. He pinches my nipples, sending jolts of electricity straight to my core.
"That's it, baby," he encourages, his voice rough with desire. "Take what you need."
His words spur me on, and I ride him harder, chasing my release. The coil of tension in my belly winds tighter and tighter with each thrust. Hunter's hips buck up to meet mine, driving himself even deeper.
"I'm close," I pant, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t you come until I’ve got mine. Hold on, Hunter. Fucking hold on.”
Hunter's hand snakes between us, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation is all it takes to push me over the edge. My orgasm crashes over me in waves, and I cry out Hunter's name as my body shakes with pleasure.
Hunter follows me moments later, his grip on my hips tightening as he thrusts up into me one last time. I feel him pulsing inside me as he comes, his face contorted in ecstasy. We cling to each other, both breathing heavily as we come down from our shared high.
For a moment, we just stay like that, connected, my forehead resting against his. The world outside our little bubble in the truck cab doesn't exist. It's just us, our ragged breathing, and the lingering electricity between our bodies.
Eventually, reality seeps in.
I notice the chill on my exposed skin, the awkward position of my legs straddling Hunter in the confined space, the nightmares that wait for us right outside this tight truck cab.
I lift my head and meet Hunter's eyes, force myself to crack a smile; that act alone hurts so much my heart could break.
I wish I could tell him, tell him everything that has me so scared, everything that has me so nervous that I get sick every time I think about it, but I love him too much to do that to him. The thought of losing Hunter, of losing us, makes me feel like I'm drowning.
They say you’re supposed to be honest with the ones you love, but if I was honest with him, I know I’d lose him. Because, if he is half the man I think he is, he’d walk away without looking back.
So instead, I press a gentle kiss to his lips and whisper, "I love you."
Hunter's eyes soften, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "I love you too, Emily. More than you know."
The tenderness in his voice nearly breaks me. I want to curl up in his arms and never leave, to forget about everything waiting for us outside this moment.
But I can't.
We can't.
My phone cries out from my purse. I know what it is. Know who it is. It’s the hardest thing in the world not to cry out in sick agony and turn this loving moment of perfect non-escape into a tragedy.
“Work?” Hunter says.
I nod, seizing on his guess. That he’s the one who says it absolves me of the lie, right?
“I have to go.”