23. Sutton #3
He grunts and makes eye contact. “I’ve had a lot of time to imagine what it would be like to have you, so, yes, Sutton, in your office and many, many other places.”
I groan as he hooks his fingers into my panties and lowers them.
Swaying my hips side to side, I wiggle them down and kick them to the side.
Hunter keeps his thigh between my legs, stopping me from closing them.
A sudden jolt of nervous energy pushes against my ribs as he drags a finger through my center.
Never in my entire life have I done anything like this.
I glance back at him, gloriously naked standing behind me. He briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head as he rolls on a condom, almost like he’s trying to get himself to focus.
Hunter’s eyes flare as he grips my hip and positions himself at my entrance. He pushes inside. I gasp, falling forward onto my desk. The cold surface bites at my overly sensitive nipples.
There’s a faint thump of the chair against the wall.
My soft gasps and his low groans fill the air.
The world narrows to touch and breath and want and the distant, reckless awareness that someone could walk by at any moment. But we don’t care.
Because right now, it’s just us.
Time slips as we both shatter to pieces.
When we’ve finished, Hunter rests his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard, his hand cupping my jaw with a deep tenderness, like he can’t reconcile what we just did—in my office no less—with the softness he feels for me.
“Best lunch date ever,” I say through a giggle as I situate my bra and put on my blouse.
“Agreed. Although,” he says as he tucks in his shirt. “This wasn’t the lunch date I intended to have with you.”
I smile as I finish getting dressed and slip my sleek, black boots on. My attempt at smoothing my curls into some semblance of order is in vain, so I twist it back into a bun. “How do I look?” I hold my hands out to the side.
“Like my greatest fantasy come to life.” His big grin makes me burst out laughing. The glint in his eyes makes me want to drag him back home and have more lunch for the rest of the day.
“Be good.” I raise my eyebrows in a dare.
“Admit it,” he says, and steps forward, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “you like it when I’m not.”
Wrapping my arms around his torso, I lean into his steady frame and bury my nose against the slope of his neck. His hands span the width of my back. Our hearts beat in sync.
“Thank you.” I place a gentle kiss against his neck.
“For what?” He pulls away from me.
“For distracting me from the stress. For being here for me.”
“I know you’re used to white knuckling everything in life, but”—he brushes his thumb along my cheek—“you don’t have to do that anymore. I’m standing right beside you.”
My breath catches. The knot in my chest, the one that started with the leak and the caterer and my spiraling worries, loosens.
“I just worry—”
He places a finger over my lips. “About everything. And somewhere in that brain of yours, you’ve convinced yourself that something you’ve done has caused all of this to happen all at once.
” Hunter gathers my hands in his and places them over his heart.
“But sometimes, frustrating or terrible things just happen. No rhyme. No reason.”
I nod, a tear forming at the corner of my eye.
“Even if it all goes to shit, I’ll be right next to you ready to help clean up the mess, okay?”
“Okay.”
Hunter pulls back and places the end of his belt through the last loop. He studies me carefully, as if he’s making sure I’m really here, really okay.
“Can you take the day off tomorrow?” he asks out of the blue. “I’ve got to meet with Logan in Eagle Falls, so I thought we could make it a day trip.”
“A day trip?” I blink up at him.
His smile is low, warm, and absolutely certain.
“Yep,” he says. “We’ll roll out early, okay?”
My stomach flips. “I—” My throat closes around all the reasons I can’t go. With all the new problems, taking the day off is only going to set things back further.
“It’s one day, Sutton.”
My heartbeat thunders. “Hunter, I don’t—”
“Sutton.” He says my name like a command. His hand slides over my cheek and down the line of my jaw, traces the column of my neck and lower down my arm until his fingers brush the inside of my wrist. Goosebumps erupt in their wake. Traitorous little bastards. “Let go, baby girl.”
My breath catches. Because this calm, steady, in-control version of him, the one who sees straight through me and isn’t afraid to push, is new. And a little dangerous in all the ways I’ve secretly wanted for longer than I care to admit out loud.
I nod and let the last thread of control I’d been trying to hold on to go. “Okay,” I whisper, because it’s all I can think of.
His mouth curves with satisfaction. “Good girl.” He gathers the papers I dropped earlier, taps them neatly into a stack, and sets them on my desk like he didn’t just detonate my entire nervous system. Again.
“See you at home.” He turns, flicks the lock, and walks out of my office, leaving the door open and me sitting there absolutely undone in a way I am nowhere near ready for.
But suddenly craving more than my next breath.