Chapter 13
Hunter
I opened the door, and every reasonable thought I’d had for the last twenty minutes disappeared.
Catherine stood in the hall with flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and lips I already knew too well for a man who was supposed to be staying away from her.
I’d spent all morning thinking about her.
One kiss had made me feel like a starving man who’d been handed something he couldn’t have.
“Hi,” she said, a little breathless.
I gripped the side of the door. “Hi.”
Neither of us moved.
The hallway was empty, but it still felt like the whole damn building could hear my pulse. Max could walk out of the elevator. Taylor could open her door. Someone else could get off the elevator. We were being reckless and stupid and asking for trouble. I still stepped back.
“Come in.”
Catherine walked inside, and I shut the door behind her. The second it clicked closed, the air changed. I wanted her so badly I had to curl my hands into fists to keep from grabbing her. She turned around slowly. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, then lifted back to my eyes.
“I should probably say something responsible,” I said.
Her lips parted. “Please don’t.”
My control cracked right down the middle.
“Catherine.”
She stepped closer. “I know.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” I chuckled.
“Yes, I do.” Another step. “My dad. The team. Isla. My elective. Your career. Max being a pain in the ass.”
She was close enough now that I could smell her shampoo. Something soft and sweet that did not belong in my condo unless I was allowed to bury my face in her neck and ruin both our lives.
I swallowed hard. “We can just hang out.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“I mean it,” I said, even though my voice sounded like I absolutely did not mean it. “We don’t have to do anything.”
Catherine looked at me for a long second. Then she reached for the front of my shirt and pulled me closer. “Only if hanging out includes your bedroom.”
My body went tight.
“And your bed,” she added.
I stared at her.
She stared right back, nervous but not backing down.
“You sure about that?” I asked.
“I came here, didn’t I?” she asked, her right brow cocked in challenge, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
“That’s not an answer,” I replied, needing her absolute confirmation.
Her fingers flexed against my shirt. “Yes, Hunter. I’m sure.”
I should’ve kissed her then. Instead, I took one second too long because that was who I was now, apparently.
The guy who finally had the woman he wanted standing in his condo asking for his bed and still couldn’t stop thinking about whether I deserved her there.
Her ex had made her feel like she wasn’t enough.
I knew what betrayal did, and I wanted her to feel chosen by me.
She tugged on my shirt. “You’re thinking too much.”
“I’m trying not to screw this up,” I admitted.
Something softened in her face, and somehow that was worse than the heat. “You’re not.”
“You don’t know that,” I answered.
“I know you,” she said.
That hit harder than it should have. I stepped into her space and cupped her jaw. Her breath caught, and the sound went straight through me.
“I’ve been alone a long time,” I said quietly.
Her expression changed. Not pity. Just understanding. “I know.”
“I’m not good at relationships. I haven’t ever had a real one,” I confessed.
“I’m confused. Sex? You’re bad at sex?” she asked.
I felt my eyes bulge. “I’m good at sex. That’s not what I meant.” I brushed my thumb over her lower lip. “I meant wanting something for myself.”
Her eyes went glossy for half a second before she blinked it away.
Then she pushed up on her toes and kissed me.
She kissed me like she was done waiting for me to talk us out of it.
I caught her waist and dragged her against me.
Her hands slid up my chest and into my hair, and the sound she made when I opened my mouth over hers nearly took me out at the knees.
Last night, I’d stopped because I had to. Today, stopping felt impossible.
She backed me into the door, and I let her. Because apparently Catherine Davis with her hands in my hair and her body pressed against mine could make a thirty-three-year-old man forget he had ever been in charge of anything. Her fingers went to my belt. I caught her wrist.
She froze.
I pulled back enough to look at her. “Slow down.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No.”
A rough laugh left me. “No?”
She was breathing hard, her lips wet from mine. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”
“That makes two of us.”
Her hand slid free of my grip and flattened against my stomach. “Then stop being noble.”
“I’m not being noble,” I scoffed. I was hard as a rock and wanted inside her.
“You are.” Her fingers dipped under the hem of my shirt, brushing bare skin. “It’s annoying.”
“It’s called restraint,” I said.
“I don’t like it,” she pouted. She was so beautiful it was taking my breath away.
“You liked it last night,” she reminded me. Her cheeks flushed, but her gaze didn’t drop. “Last night, I went home and barely slept because I kept thinking about your mouth.”
My restraint took another hit. “Catherine.”
“And your hands,” she continued as my cock throbbed. I closed my eyes.
I opened my eyes again. “I still want that.”
“Good.”
She kissed me again, and this time when her fingers found my belt, I didn’t stop her right away.
I let her touch me. I let myself feel the shock of it, the rush.
The terrifying, addictive realization that she wanted me with the same reckless intensity I wanted her.
But when she started to undo my belt, I caught her hand again and brought it to my mouth.
I kissed her knuckles. Her whole body stilled.
“Hunter,” she whispered.
“If we’re doing this, I’m not rushing it,” I said.
Her throat moved. I kissed the inside of her wrist. Her fingers trembled against my mouth. I placed another kiss, higher this time, and her breath hitched. I stepped closer, backing her away from the door. “I want you so badly I can barely think straight.”
Her lips parted.
“But I’m still going to make sure you know what you’re asking for.”
She swallowed. “I’m asking for you.”
My chest tightened.
“For this.” She slid her free hand over my heart. “For whatever this is when you stop fighting it.”
I stared at her, and something in me shifted.
Because it wasn’t just lust in her eyes.
It wasn’t just forbidden thrill or a crush.
She wanted me. The man, father, the mess, the guarded parts.
And somehow, I trusted her with them. I kissed her slower this time.
Deeper. She melted against me, but only for a second.
Then her hands got greedy. She pushed my shirt up, and I broke away long enough to pull it over my head.
Her gaze dropped. I almost laughed at the look on her face.
“See something you like?” I laughed.
Her eyes came back to mine. “Don’t get cocky.”
“Too late,” I smirked.
She put both hands on my chest and shoved me lightly. “Bedroom.”
I caught her wrists, smiling even though I was dying. “Bossy.”
“You like it,” she said.
“I do.” I liked it a lot.
I walked her backward down the hall, my lips on hers between steps, hands at her waist, her hips, the bare strip of skin where her tank had ridden up.
Every time my fingers touched her, she made the sexiest sounds.
By the time we reached my bedroom, I was hanging on by a thread.
Catherine stopped in the doorway and looked at my bed.
Then she looked at me. For the first time since she’d stepped inside, uncertainty flickered across her face.
I touched her chin. “Talk to me.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I’m nervous. I’m not as experienced as some of the women you’ve probably been with.”
Her admission did something to me. “They didn’t matter to me. You do.”
She responded with a soft smile that touched her gorgeous green eyes. “Thanks for saying that.”
“It’s how I feel.”
“This is a big deal,” she said. “This can’t just be about sex.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s big for me too. I wouldn’t risk your parents’ friendship, your spot with the team, or mine if it wasn’t.”
“I want the team to respect me for who I am. I know this goes against that, but I want to try this for me. Does that make sense?” she asked, looking deeply into my eyes.
“It makes perfect sense. I haven’t done anything for me in a long time either,” I said. “Now where were we?”
Her smile grew. “I was about to have sex with my dad’s captain.”
My jaw tightened at the words.
She noticed. “What?”
“I don’t want to be that to you,” I admitted. Amy had wanted me for my last name and bank account, and apparently not all my wounds had healed.
Her brows pulled together. “What?”
“A dirty secret you’re sneaking around for.”
Her face softened. “Hunter.”
“I know we have to keep this private. I know why. But I don’t want you feeling like I’m hiding you because I’m ashamed,” I explained.
She stepped closer and pressed her palm to my chest.
“I know,” she said softly.
I exhaled. Deep down, I did know. It was just old wounds rearing their ugly head. “I want you, Catherine. I trust you, and I know we have to keep things quiet for now, but maybe it’s for the best. It gives us a chance to see if this can be something real.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief. “I want that, Hunter. I want to be seen for me and not my family. I want this… I want you. I don’t think you’ll hurt me. Not the way…”
She pulled her gaze from me.
I put my fingers on her chin and tilted her head so she would look at me. “I know what betrayal tastes like, and I would never intentionally hurt you.” I cupped her face in both hands. “You are wanted.”
Her eyes searched mine. I brushed my mouth over hers. “This is the least easy thing I’ve ever done.”
She laughed softly against my lips.
“But I want you anyway,” I said.
Her fingers tightened on my skin. “Then show me.”
My control went up in flames. I kissed her and walked her back until her legs hit the bed. She sat, then leaned back on her hands, looking up at me like she was trying to be brave and tempting at the same time. It worked too damn well. I dropped to my knees in front of her. Her eyes widened.
“Hunter.”
“You said show you,” I rasped because my voice was heavy from the thought of just tasting her. Her breath caught when I put my hands on her thighs. I kissed the inside of her knee through her jeans, then higher, my hands sliding up slowly. She shifted, restless already, and I looked up at her.
“Still sure?” I asked, unable to help my sly grin as she squirmed.
She gave me a look. “I swear, if you ask me that again—”
I smiled against her thigh. “There she is.”
“Hunter,” she laughed.
“What?” I kept a straight face, which was hard.
“Stop smiling and kiss me.”
“So demanding.”
“You like me like that,” she said.
“Yeah,” I admitted, rising over her. “I really do.”
She pulled me down, and this time there was nothing careful about the kiss.
It was open mouths and hands and heat. Her fingers dragged through my hair, down my back, over my shoulders, like she couldn’t decide where she wanted to touch first. I knew the feeling.
I pushed her open shirt off her shoulders and tossed it aside.
Her tank followed. Then my hands were on her waist, her ribs, her back, and she arched into me with a sound that made my head drop to her shoulder.
“Catherine.”
“What?”
“I’m trying to be slow.”
Her nails scraped lightly down my back. “Try less.”
A laugh broke out of me, rough and helpless. Then she kissed my jaw, my neck, the spot under my ear that made me tighten above her.
“You’re killing me,” I muttered.
“Good. Do something about it.”
That was it. I rolled us so she was under me, stretched out on my bed with her hair across my pillow and her eyes locked on mine. The sight of her there punched the air out of my lungs. For a second, I just looked at her.
She reached up and touched my face. “What?”
“You’re in my bed,” I said, just in case she hadn’t noticed.
“That was the plan.” She grinned.
I lowered my mouth to hers, and the kiss changed again.
Less frantic. More dangerous. I took my time, even when she squirmed beneath me, even when her hands got impatient, even when she said my name like a warning.
I wanted her desperate. But I wanted her sure.
When I touched her, she went soft and hot under my hands, her breath catching against my mouth.
I watched her face. Every reaction. Every little tell.
The way she tried to bite back sounds until I kissed her throat.
“Don’t hide from me,” I said.
Her eyes opened, heavy and bright.
“I want to hear you.”
A shiver moved through her. I dragged my mouth down the side of her throat, and her fingers tightened in my hair.
“Hunter,” she breathed.
I lifted my head. “Yeah?”
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright and a little wild, but she still looked right at me. “I like when you touch me like you’re trying to figure me out.”
My chest pulled tight. Then her hand slid down my stomach, bold enough to make my breath catch.
“And I like when you stop pretending you’re not losing control,” she said.
A rough laugh scraped out of me. “You think I’m losing control?”
“I think you lost it when you texted me from across brunch,” she acknowledged.
I kissed her because she was right. She smiled against my mouth, and then she did the worst possible thing.
She whispered, “I thought about your hands last night.”
My body went still over hers. She blushed immediately, but she didn’t take it back.
“Where?” I asked.
Her throat moved. “Everywhere.”
The word was soft. Almost shy. It still hit me like a match to gasoline. I lowered my mouth to her ear. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
She made this tiny, embarrassed sound and turned her face into the pillow. I caught her chin gently and brought her back to me. “No hiding.”
Her lashes fluttered.
“I’m serious, Catherine. If you want something, tell me.”
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
Then she said, barely above a whisper, “I want your mouth on me.”
Fuck.
Her hands slid over my shoulders, down my back, and she pulled me closer with a confidence that was still threaded with nerves. That combination ruined me. The boldness. The blush. The way she asked for what she wanted and then looked a little shocked by her own honesty.
“You have a dirty mouth, Dr. Davis,” I muttered against her skin.
Her laugh came out breathless. “You like it.”
“I like it too much.”
“Then stop talking about it.”
I lifted my head. She looked up at me, lips swollen, eyes dark, cheeks pink.
“And do something about it,” she whispered.
Whatever control I had left went straight to hell.