Chapter Twenty-One Hunter
Chapter Twenty-One
Hunter
I slide into the Uber and gasp like I’m breathing air for the first time in hours.
“That wasn’t fun,” Lucy says. “Dinner with Katherine is always fun, but that didn’t qualify.”
“Yeah, it was a weird vibe tonight. Ed was on edge. But honestly, it was good to hear that he’s struggling to stay on top of work. Sometimes I wonder if he notices that he’s not as committed.”
“Please, God, when we have our fake wedding, let’s not make it a four-day affair at the venue of my mother’s choosing.”
I chuckle. “We can elope.”
“Honestly, the weekend on Martha’s Vineyard was so perfect, I’d like to do something like that.”
“I really think you should go part-time before I propose.” I grin at her, and she swipes me playfully on the arm. “You haven’t told Katherine about law school.”
She straightens in her seat. “Nothing to tell,” she says.
“You don’t think she would approve?”
“I don’t know.” She seems to think about it for a minute. “I don’t think my mom would like it.”
“Does she have to?”
She sighs. “It would be easier if she did. Then I wouldn’t have to hear about how I’m too focused on my career and men don’t like women who are too independent.”
“You think that’s what she’d say?”
“Probably.”
“Well, for the record, I think ambitious, driven, independent women are hot as all holy hell.”
Lucy presses her lips together to stop her smile.
I can’t resist: I reach over to cup her face and lean in to press a kiss to her full, soft lips.
We’re sliding around on the back seat of a car.
I just want to get out of here and touch her.
The more I get to know her, the more I want her.
Properly. I love the way she tries to protect Katherine.
She’s such a loving sister, but my heart aches that she can’t be honest with her.
And maybe that keeps her from being honest with herself.
The cab hits a pothole, jolting us apart.
“What are we doing?” she asks. “Why do we keep kissing each other? We know it can’t go anywhere.”
I have to reach into the far corners of my brain to remember why. Oh, yes, because we don’t want to make anything awkward when things between us inevitably end.
“I like kissing you,” I confess, reaching across the seat and threading my fingers through hers.
“I like kissing you too. I also like Hershey’s Kisses, but I have to resist those or I’ll make myself sick.”
“No ill health effects from kissing me.”
She presses her lips together like she’s trying to stop her smile and looks out the window, but she doesn’t let go of my hand, and relief washes over me.
I don’t want her to let go. I’m not sure if I’ll ever want her to let go.
I like her touching me. I like kissing her.
I want more. I want to know her more. Kiss her more.
Listen to every last thought in her head.
We’re heading toward my apartment, which is sort of on the way to her apartment in Brooklyn.
I insisted on booking the Uber on my account, so it’s paid for.
But she doesn’t have to go across the bridge.
She could come back to my place. We could kiss for hours.
She could tell me more truths about herself.
We could hold hands for the rest of the night.
“You know how we’re lying to protect your sister? Or something? And we’re not actually dating to protect your sister?”
“Yes,” she says suspiciously, like she knows some kind of harebrained idea is going to follow. She’s not wrong.
“Well, I thought that, given we’re such good liars—we have Ed and Katherine fooled, after all—if we were to .
. . I don’t know, actually have dinner, and things went wrong, we could lie about it easily.
Pretend everything’s fine. They wouldn’t have to know we hate each other. We’d just be switching the lie.”
She narrows her eyes like she’s really trying to concentrate on what I’m saying. “You think we should date?”
I pause for a second or two, but only for dramatic effect.
The words are right there on the tip of my tongue.
“I think about you all the time,” I confess.
“Even when I haven’t seen you in weeks. When I actually do see you, I have a really great time.
I like you. I like hanging out with you. I’d like to do that some more.”
Her slow smile is interrupted. “You have to promise me something.”
She could make me promise just about anything in this moment.
“No lies between us,” she continues. “You have to promise we tell each other the exact truth. All the time. No lies of omission, no keeping things from me because you think I’ll hate you, or because you don’t want to make joint celebrations difficult.
If you tell the truth, I’ll always respect you, and if I respect you, I can’t hate you.
I might not like you, but I can’t hate you. ”
“Deal,” I say. It’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made.
She grins at me. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then.”
“Wanna hang out some more tonight?” she asks.
“One hundred percent.”
The Uber pulls up in front of my building with perfect timing, and we clamber out. “I’ll have to go home before work. I don’t have a change of clothes,” she says, practical as ever.
“Let’s make that tomorrow’s problem,” I say.
“Tomorrow’s problem? Okay.” She laughs. “I’m losing my head around you, Hunter Bain.”
I take her hands in mine and back her up against the wall of my building. “Oh, yeah?” I press a kiss on her neck. She smells so good—of roses and, somehow, sea air.
Her hand grips my shoulders, and I burrow my head into her neck. “Yeah.”
I pull back and scoop her up, carrying her into my building.
“Just like we’re honeymooners,” she says, tipping her head back. “Thank goodness I decided to go part-time.” Her laughter lights up the space around us.
When we get into my apartment, I set her down, but she doesn’t glance away from me. I expected her to want a full tour, to inspect every cupboard and drawer, but I have her full attention. It’s like she’s drip-feeding me pure testosterone.
“So,” she says, gazing up at me. “Now that you have me here, what are your plans?”
I let out a deep rumble that comes from my chest. Oh, the plans I have for this woman.
I pull her closer, pressing my lips to hers.
Our tongues meet, and it feels like we’ve crossed a line.
Yes, we’ve kissed before. But in all the scenarios up to now, we’ve been around each other because our presence was required by someone else.
Right here, right now, she’s in my apartment because I want her here and she wants to be here.
Things have changed.
We both know it.
I pull her against me, trying to get closer.
I deepen our kiss, needing more from her, my self-control ebbing away.
I want to strip her naked and lick her from mouth to pussy, but I know already that I’m going to take my time.
She deserves reverence. She deserves the best sex of her life.
And something tells me I’m not going to have experienced anything like Lucy Jones before.
I grasp her ass, pressing her against me. I’m hard already, and I want her to know how much I want her. She slides her hand between us. When her palm hits my erection, I groan into her mouth.
I feel the throb of veins pulsing in my neck as I grind against her hand. I can’t ever remember wanting a woman as much as I want Lucy. I’ve wanted her since back in Martha’s Vineyard. If Ed wasn’t so important to me, I would have never been able to hold back from staking my claim.
And now? Now I’m too far gone to even remember Ed’s full name.
She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt. As soon as it’s open, she slides her hands up my chest. Her soft heat is everywhere, warming me as she touches me.
She releases me and spins. “My zipper,” she says, lifting her hands and fiddling with her hair. I pull down the metal tag just as her hair falls down her back, as if one is chasing the other.
“I love your hair,” I say. “I love your back.” I tease her dress open wider and trace my knuckle down her spine.
She shivers, and I push the dress over her shoulders so it slips down and pools at her feet.
She turns to face me, but it’s not her eyes I’m looking at.
I’m taking in the blue lace. The curves.
The black patent heels. I’m taking in the absolute perfection of it all.
“You’re gorgeous.”
“I don’t spend as much time in the gym as you.” She nods toward me.
“You. Are. Perfect.”
“I showed you mine.” She lifts her chin. “Take it all off.” She grins. She knows she’s being sassy and that I like it. A little too much.
I do as she asks, shrugging off my shirt and taking off my pants and underwear together.
She glances at my cock, swollen and thick against my stomach.
“I hope that’s not just for show,” she says, tilting her head to the side.
“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” I say, clasping my fist around my length.
She steps toward me, but as she reaches for me, I wrap my hand around her wrist. “I think we’ll start like this.” I twirl her around, so her ass grazes my thighs.
My heart is thumping so hard I wonder whether she can feel it against her back. I’m weak. My legs are only just keeping me upright, and my knees could buckle at any time.
I lean back a little and drag my finger up her spine. I stop at the fastening to her bra and unclip. I swallow, pulling the lace down and off.
Thank God I’m not facing her at the moment. I don’t think I could take any more. The sight of her breasts might be the end of me.