Chapter 7 #2
I’m not sure how long we’ve been dancing, but someone whistles from the bar. Out of the corner of my eye, I see it’s some old high school friends of mine plus the groomsmen grinning at us. I flip them off without breaking rhythm.
Claire laughs against my chest. “Your friends are staring.”
“They can stare.”
“We’re not exactly subtle.”
I tip her chin up. “Good. I’m done being subtle.”
Her eyes search mine, the ocean breeze billowing around us. “What are you being?”
“Honest.”
Hours blur together with more dancing and more stolen moments as night falls. I pull her onto the terrace just to kiss her, quick and desperate, and promise more.
Eventually, the bouquet toss happens. Claire tries to dodge but it lands right in her hands anyway. She looks at Esme and then me, shocked.
I grin as she places the bouquet on the table in front of her chair. “Guess that’s settled.”
“What’s settled?” A strand of her auburn hair wisps around her chin, her green eyes bright amid the soft flow of the torches.
“You’re next.”
She grabs it and throws it at my chest. I catch it one-handed, my grin wide. She snatches the bouquet, replacing it on the table before joining the other bridesmaids to grab sparklers from the side table.
It’s finally the send-off, with cheers, sparklers, and well-wishes. Esme hugs Claire tight.
“Be happy.” The bride’s whisper is loud enough that I hear it, though I don’t think she meant for me to.
Claire nods. “I’m trying.”
Then Esme looks at me, one eyebrow cocked. “Don’t screw this up.”
“Yes ma’am.”
So she meant for me to hear.
As they leave, the music’s still playing but the crowd’s thinning. Claire’s barefoot, her heels abandoned somewhere, and when she turns to me her eyes are dark.
“Your room or mine?”
Well, then. “Yours,” I say. “It’s closer.”
We walk hand in hand through the resort like we have all the time in the world.
Our footsteps echo off the tile floor as we approach the elevator, and waiting for it to arrive nearly kills me.
The doors slide open, we step inside, and the second they close I have her against the wall, my mouth on hers.
She tastes like champagne and wedding cake and want.
Her hair’s coming loose, a couple of pins scattering on the elevator floor with tiny pings as her hands slide inside my jacket. I fist the auburn strands that are free and tilt her head back, my mouth devouring hers.
She gasps against me, and I swallow the sound with a wave of kisses. “Hunter—”
“I know.” I rest my forehead on hers, gulping for breath. “I know.”
The elevator finally dings, and we make it down the hall in record time. I fumble the key card—it’s hard to focus when her hand’s on my ass—and finally shove the door open.
It closes, then locks. And we’re alone.
The moonlight shines through balcony doors, and I move to open them. Night air rushes in, the air crisp and clean. The curtains fluttering in the breeze as the waves crashing against rocks below in a steady, tender rhythm.
Claire looks at me, her chest heaving, her lipstick smeared, and her gorgeous auburn hair falling out of its pins. She’s so damn beautiful my heart hurts.
“Hi,” she says.
I cross to her in three steps and back her to the bed while kissing her like I’ve been starving.
She sits when her knees hit the mattress, and I kneel before her, runing my hands up her calves to her thighs.
“This dress.” My voice is rough. “It’s been killing me all day.”
“Good.” Her fingers thread through my hair. “That was the point.”
I find the zipper and drag it slowly down her back, the cowl neck gaping. I press my mouth to the newly bare skin, dragging my beard along her cleavage as I inch her dress down.
She shivers, the goosebumps rising under my mouth. “Hunter.”
“Yep?”
“Stop teasing.”
I chuckle and finish helping her out of the dress, peeling it down and tossing it somewhere.
And damn if she’s not wearing a sage lace boustier with a see-through thong.
The lace is so thin I see her nipples through it, already peaked.
My mouth waters, and I stop breathing. Sheezus. What is it about this color?
Pink spreads down her chest. “You’re staring.”
“Damn right.” My hands slide up her thighs and over her hips, my thumbs tracing the panty’s lace edges. My hands look massive against her thick thighs. “Look at you, Doc.”
She pulls me up and kisses me hard. Her fingers starts on my shirt buttons, but I cover her hands with mine.
“Claire.”
“I want this.” She looks up at me. “Now.”
Well, damn.
I strip, unbuttoning the shirt and shrugging out of the jacket while attempting to remove my tie. The room’s dim but she’s watching. I see her eyes tracking the scars on my chest, my arms, pale lines from fifteen years of mill work.
“Touch them.” My voice is rough.
Her fingers slowly trace each one—the chainsaw nick on my ribs, the saw blade slash across my shoulder. She’s memorizing me.
My cock flinches, and I lay her back, taking my time until we’re skin to skin. She’s so fucking soft everywhere I’m hard. I kiss every damn inch of her I can reach, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her arch, and what makes her say my name.
When my rough palm slides to her inner thigh, Claire’s already wet and ready for me. I groan when I feel how soaked she is.
“All this for me, Doc?” She nods, wordless, hips rolling into my hand.
“Hunter. Please.” Her green eyes are half-mast, her dark lashes full as I hook my fingers in lace and drag it down, tossing it in the direction of her dress.
I brace over her, my left arm shaking slightly, still not full strength, but I don’t care. She’s so damn gorgeous under me, her pale skin against my sun-darkened arms. Then I settle between her thighs, the head of my cock pressing against her heated center.
“Look at me, Doc.”
Claire’s green eyes lock on mine, dark and wanting, her full lips parted slightly, her breasts heaving.
I push in slow. Her pussy is tight and perfect and mine, her walls clenching around me.
She pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, her cheeks flushed pink. “Okay… wow.”
“You okay?” The words barely scrape out as I pause to make sure she’s okay with my girth.
“More than okay.”
Her hips tilt, and I start to move, her silken heat wrapping around my dick with pressure that makes my vision blur. She’s so fucking tight I have to grit my teeth to go slow. I watch her face, her mouth falling open. Her breath stutters out, half-gasp and half-moan.
I drag the lace of her corset down to reveal her peaked nipples, their coral pink perfection against her peachy skin.
I begin moving deeper and harder, finding the rhythm that has her nails biting my shoulders, and her legs wrapping my waist. The sounds she makes, breathy and needy, drive me higher.
When I grip her hip to angle her exactly where I need her, she cries out.
“That’s it, Doc.” My voice is gravel. “Let me hear you.”
“Hunter. I…I.. ohgawd—”
I brace on one arm, using the other to grab the soft globes of her ass. I hit deeper, and the bed frame creaks, the wood slamming against the wall with each thrust. The headboard’s going to leave marks in the plaster, but I don’t give a damn. Let the whole resort hear.
She arches off the bed, her thighs shaking where they’re locked around my waist, sweat slicking where our bodies meet.
Her gasps turn into chanting my name, over and over, and the sound drives me fucking crazy.
I feel her tightening around me, getting close, and I know with everything that I am that this woman is mine.
“I’ve got you.” My thumb finds where we’re joined, pressing against her clit. “Let go, Claire.”
She comes apart, her back arching, my name on her lips.
I follow. Bury my face in her neck, my beard scraping her skin.
My weight’s probably crushing her, but she’s holding on tight, her legs still locked around my waist like she doesn’t want me to move.
I breathe her in as I spill inside her, and we collapse together, our hearts hammering, sweat-slicked and tangled.
I can’t move. And I don’t want to.
She traces patterns on my chest, her fingers light as they wander, almost like I’m breakable. I’m not, but I let her treat me like I am.
I catch her hand and press a kiss to her palm. “Any regrets?”
“Not even one.” She props her chin on my chest. Looks up at me. “You?”
“Only that we didn’t do this sooner.”
She smiles. A genuine, wide smile. Then she settles against me, her breathing evening out as we lie here.
Through the balcony doors, the ocean glows under the large moon.
The breeze coming in smells like salt and jasmine.
The resort’s quiet now, just the waves and her breathing and my heartbeat as the water lulls us to sleep.
I hold Claire close and think about our three dates and what might comes after.
And I’m choosing her. Every single day.
She’s worth it.
All of it.