Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Clementine
We both go quiet again for a moment. Hunter’s thumb runs along my knee, barely a whisper against my skin. I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it, because it has that familiar, habitual, time-worn rhythm to it.
It still feels the same, I’m thinking. Like it did when we were good, before all this shit went down.
I want to kiss him again. Well, I want more than that, way more, but I feel like an asshole. First, I tell him I need a couple days of time, then I decide to go for it, then I change my mind, cry in a bathroom, and yell at him.
I realize that heading to Hunter’s as soon as I got back from two days of dealing with my parents’ divorce probably wasn’t a great call.
Learning that someone you’ve known your whole life, who you’ve trusted your whole life, cheated on your other parent and has been doing her best to act like everything is his fault?
It doesn’t really put one in a very good place for dealing rationally with relationships.
It’s still an excuse, though. A pretty good one, but an excuse.
And, for fuck’s sake, he followed me up a mountain. I can do better.
I take a deep breath, because I’m about to act like a grown-ass woman.
“I actually came over yesterday, you know, before I freaked out, to say I think we should...”
I swallow.
Have sex, and see what happens then, but definitely have sex, I think.
“...give this a shot,” I finish lamely, my face bright red.
I’m so nervous it feels like there’s ropes tied around my stomach, because I hate saying stuff like this out loud. Admitting I have feelings? And especially that I have squishy, mushy ones? Ew.
Hunter’s running one finger under my leggings where I pushed them over my knee, and that alone is making my body do things.
“What about now?” he asks. His voice has gone a little low and raspy, and I glance down at his lap.
Even though it’s dark, his pants aren’t hiding a goddamn thing. Hunter’s pitching a massive tent, and a sudden thrill runs through me. For the first time in a long time, I let myself remember just how great some aspects of our relationship were.
We were both virgins at first, but let’s just say that Hunter was a very quick study.
“I think I was right the first time,” I say, my stomach in knots. “If you can kind of ignore the part where I yelled at you in—”
I don’t get to finish the sentence because Hunter leans over and kisses me, his lips hard against mine, my head pinned against the window. I make a surprised mmph noise into his mouth.
He makes an mmm noise back, almost like he’s teasing me, but he opens his lips against mine and his tongue winds into my mouth. I curl mine against it as I put one hand on his shoulder, gripping the hard muscles there.
My heart is pounding through my entire body, so hard I swear I can feel it in my toes, and every beat is saying fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes. I grab the front of his t-shirt in a fist and pull, not that I could budge Hunter if he didn’t want to be budged.
He does. Hunter pulls back a little. I bite his bottom lip and he chuckles, sliding his hand up the inside of my thigh. His hand just barely brushes over my lips and clit, touching me through my leggings, but my toes curl with anticipation and I gasp.
He grins.
“You used to do this all the time,” he says.
I swallow.
“Make out with you? Yeah, I know,” I say.
He shifts on the cot, pulling my right leg around him so he’s on his knees between my legs. I’m still leaning back against the window, and he flicks both thumbnails over my nipples, through my t-shirt.
I make a noise and tighten my legs around him, my feet just under his ass.
“No, you used to go braless when you knew it would drive me fucking crazy,” he says. “Remember the time we went to the county fair?”
He squeezes my nipples between his first and second fingers and flicks his thumbnail over them again. I gasp and squirm, digging my hands into his knees.
“I wore a bra and acted like a lady?” I ask.
He pinches a little harder, still through my shirt, then leans over and bites my ear.
“Not quite,” he says. “I don’t remember a goddamn thing about the fair besides the way your tits bounced and I stared at your nipples all day.”
I half laugh and half moan.
“I might have a dim recollection of that,” I say, breathless.
“I walked around with a hard on for hours and had to keep myself from punching anyone else who looked at you,” he goes on. “Which was a whole lot of people, Clem.”
I’m blushing at the memory, because I can’t believe I wore a t-shirt with nothing underneath to a crowded county fair, just to titillate Hunter.
“I had the idea that I’d give you a blowjob in the Hall of Mirrors, but when we got there it was full of kids,” I murmur. “It’s almost like I was eighteen and a hopeless bundle of hormones who didn’t think things through.”
I run my hands down his torso, over his shirt, and swallow.
I can feel the muscles rippling underneath, and it sends a bolt of heat rushing down through my body.
Hunter lets my nipples go, only to grab my hips as he slides his knees further under me so now I’m sitting on him, his erection right between my legs, nothing more than two very thin layers of cloth between us.
I pull his shirt toward me again and we kiss, hard. I move my hips, rubbing myself along Hunter’s length, and he grunts, his hands under my shirt. His rough fingertips find my nipples and tweak them, gently at first and then harder. I arch my back, my head against the glass.
Hunter pulls my shirt off over my head and bends down, his lips on my neck. It tickles, and I laugh but it turns into a moan as his lips keep moving down. He finds one nipple and swirls his tongue around it, sucking gently.
I gasp, and my hand tightens on his side, under his shirt. That move is new. He does it again, then does it to my other nipple and this time I moan, my fingers digging into the hard muscles around his waist, my hips rocking against him, his bulge still pressing against me deliciously.
Finally, he stops and I tug his shirt over his head. Hunter throws it somewhere behind him as I grab the back of his neck, then pull him in toward me, kissing him desperately, my tongue searching out his.
I let my other hand drift down his torso, over the ripples of his hard muscles, until I’ve got my fingers on the head of his cock, sliding over the ridge of the crown.
Hunter growls and grabs my ass, his fingers digging in as he pulls me against him, so I wrap my hand around the shaft, through his pants, and squeeze.
He breaks the kiss, gasping.
“Don’t make me come in my pants,” he says, breathing into my ear.
I laugh and squeeze again, moving my hand down the length of his thick shaft. He groans.
“C’mon, Clem,” he says, his mouth against my neck as he pushes his length into my fist. “Getting my only pair of comfy pants dirty is just cruel.”
I kiss him again, slowly.
“That much of a hair trigger?” I ask.
“Not usually,” he murmurs. “Just right now.”
I squeeze his cock again, because I like the way he fills my hand, and I’m breathless with anticipation for what’s about to happen.
Hunter groans again, then straightens his back and slides his hand into my leggings, the material giving way easily as his fingers find my clit instantly. I exhale hard and my eyes close. I turn my head to one side as he rubs me in slow circles, and I can feel his eyes searching my face.
“I find it?” he murmurs.
I just nod breathlessly. The first several times we did this, there was a lot more fumbling, but like I said: he’s a quick study.
“It’s like riding a bicycle,” he says, his slick fingers still moving on me.
I swallow, then take a breath.
“I’m not a bicycle,” I murmur.
I give his cock another squeeze, then grab the waistband of his pants and pull them down his thighs until his cock springs free.
I spend a moment just looking at it, because I’m going to be honest: it’s fucking magnificent. I’ve been with other men in the past eight years, and some of them were pretty good lovers, but Hunter’s still got the nicest cock I’ve ever encountered.
Honestly, it’s kind of a bummer when the first dick you ever see ends up being the best. Well, it was a bummer until now. I wrap my hand around it, stroking him slowly from root to tip.
“I’m gonna give you a good, hard ride anyway,” Hunter growls, and slides his fingers down and into my entrance, the heel of his hand still against my clit.
“Shit,” I whisper as he crooks his fingers inside me, his hand still rubbing my clit. My hips buck on their own, and the glass behind me rattles in the pane. I don’t even have time to be surprised that he said he’d ride me, just insanely turned on.
He keeps going, and I grip his cock harder in my fist. He’s practically leaking precum, the head slick with it, and I rub my fingers over him as he growls softly.
I’m already getting close, my core tensing as his fingers keep moving insistently, my breath coming in gasps as his cock pulses in my fist, so rock-hard I think he also might be about to come.
“Jesus, Hunter,” I whisper. He crooks his fingers again and I bite my lip so hard I think I nearly draw blood. I arch my back, my hips moving practically on their own, like I can make him do this harder or faster.
He’s just watching me, a look of total concentration on his face. My eyelids flutter open and I look at him.
He grins, and I feel like everything is going a little blurry around the edges.
“I did miss watching you lose control like this,” he murmurs.
I just whimper, because I think I’m about to come, and I feel totally helpless against it. His fingers move again, and I can feel myself on the brink, ready to fall over it.
“Oh fu—”
Hunter pulls his hand away, letting his fingers drag quickly over my clit. My body jolts but I don’t come, and then I’m just sitting there, mouth open, staring at him. He’s grinning.
“What the fuck?” I ask, trying to catch my breath. “Go back, I didn’t finish.”