20. Chapter Twenty #2
She kissed him harder. One hand moved up her back while the other held her hip. Heat spread through her belly. She opened his shirt and pressed her mouth under his collar.
“Bedroom,” she whispered.
Hunter stood. “Are you sure?”
Wendy caught his hand and placed it over her breast. His palm covered her through the thin fabric, and her nipple tightened under his touch.
“Does that feel uncertain?” she asked.
His eyes darkened. “No.”
“Then come with me.”
She led him down the short hall. At the bedroom doorway, Hunter paused long enough to set his phone on the narrow table outside. He silenced it and turned the screen facedown.
Wendy drew him inside by his open shirt. She pushed it from his shoulders. He looked leaner than he had in Los Angeles, with faint scratches along one forearm. She kissed one mark. Hunter lifted her sweater but stopped.
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
He pulled it over her head. Wendy unhooked her bra. Hunter stared with open hunger as his thumb brushed her nipple.
Pleasure tightened low inside her.
“More,” she said.
He cupped both breasts, rolled her nipples between his fingers, and bent to take one into his mouth.
Wendy gripped his hair. The slow pull of his lips sent heat through her, but she didn’t want slow for long.
She reached between them and opened his belt.
Hunter groaned as she pushed down his jeans and underwear, and wrapped her hand around his cock.
He was hot and hard. She stroked him, watching his jaw tighten.
“I’ve missed touching you,” she said.
“I’ve missed everything.”
“Don’t make it sad.”
“I’m trying not to come in your hand.”
Wendy laughed, and the sound turned into a gasp when he slid his hand into her pants. His fingers moved through the wet heat between her thighs.
“You aren’t uncertain,” he said.
“I told you.”
He pressed one finger over her clit, and her knees softened.
“Bed,” he said.
Wendy stepped out of her pants and underwear while Hunter stripped the rest of the way. She lay back against the pillows and opened her legs because she wanted him to see her choose this too.
Hunter knelt at the edge of the mattress. “Tell me what you want.”
“Your mouth.”
He bent between her thighs. The first stroke of his tongue made her arch. He held her hips without pinning them and licked through her wet folds before circling her clit. Wendy forced her eyes open. She wanted to be inside the pleasure, not disappear into it.
“Look at me,” she said.
Hunter did. His green eyes stayed on hers as he sucked her clit into his mouth.
“God. Yes.”
He knew her body, but he didn’t assume it hadn’t changed. When his finger pressed at her entrance, he waited.
“Inside,” she said.
He slid one finger into her, then a second. Wendy gripped the sheet and moved with his hand as pleasure drew tight and hot.
“Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. Her orgasm broke through her with a sharp cry.
Her thighs closed around his shoulders as she pulsed around his fingers.
Hunter slowed when she loosened her grip.
He kissed the inside of her thigh and rose over her.
Wendy pulled him down until their mouths met.
She tasted herself on his tongue and felt another wave of need. She pushed his shoulder.
“Lie down.”
He did. Wendy straddled his hips and guided him to her entrance. The thick head of his cock pressed into her. She paused, breathing through the stretch and the rush of memory that came with it. Hunter’s hands stayed open against the mattress.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked.
“No.” She leaned down until their foreheads touched. “I want to feel all of this.”
She lowered herself slowly. He filled her inch by inch until she sat fully on him. The familiar fit hurt in the tender way of something returned, but it didn’t pull her backward. She was here because she’d chosen every step that brought them to this bed.
Hunter’s eyes shone. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Wendy began to move. She set the pace, lifting and sinking onto him while his hands found her waist. Each stroke rubbed deep inside her. Hunter watched her face, letting her lead until patience became distance she didn’t want.
“Hold me,” she said.
His grip tightened.
“Harder.”
He pulled her down as he thrust up. Pleasure snapped through her, rougher now. Wendy braced her hands on his chest and rode him faster. His cock slid deep with every downward roll of her hips, and the pressure against her clit began building again.
Hunter sat up and wrapped one arm around her. His mouth found her breast. Wendy threaded both hands into his hair and moved against him, their bodies close enough that every breath touched skin.
“Good?” he asked.
“Yes. Don’t slow down.”
He kept the rhythm she demanded. Wendy felt his control breaking in the tension of his thighs and the broken sounds against her breast. She rocked harder, chasing the sharp edge inside her.
“Come with me,” she whispered.
Hunter lifted his face. Their eyes met. Wendy pressed her fingers to her clit between their bodies. Two tight circles pushed her over. She cried his name as her body clenched around him.
Hunter thrust deep and came with a low, rough groan. His arms locked around her, holding her close while the last pulses moved through them.
Wendy stayed across his lap with her cheek against his shoulder. Hunter’s hand moved over her back. Pleasure didn’t erase grief, and grief didn’t poison the pleasure. Both belonged to them.
When Wendy shifted, Hunter helped her lie down. He went to the bathroom and returned with a warm cloth and a glass of water, then stopped beside the bed.
“Do you want space?” he asked.
Wendy lifted the blanket. “I want you here.”
He climbed in next to her. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat settle.
“Stay tonight,” she said.
Hunter’s arm tightened around her. “I will.”
“Orchard Lane is still your home tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“That didn’t make you less happy about staying.”
“Nothing could.”
Wendy traced one finger over his wedding ring.
“I’m scared to trust this much happiness,” she said.
Hunter didn’t tell her the fear was foolish or promise nothing could hurt them again.
“You don’t have to make the fear leave,” he said. “Tell me when it’s here. I’ll listen.”
She closed her eyes. “What do you want in the morning?”
“Whatever you want.”
“That’s avoiding the question.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Coffee. Eggs. The last piece of bread if you haven’t hidden it.”
“Better.”
“What do you want?” he asked in return.
Wendy looked toward the open bedroom door. His silenced phone remained facedown outside it.
“Breakfast,” she said. “A walk through Vesper Hill. Another day of building the life we nearly lost.”
Hunter kissed her hair. “I’ll be there.”
For the first time, Wendy believed the promise because his life had already begun matching it.