Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
IRIS
I wake up alone in Hunter’s bed, well, not completely alone.
The beagle is up and snuffling at my elbow before I can even finish a yawn.
Buster’s already in hyperdrive, tail drumming the mattress, tongue lolling like he’s just discovered joy for the first time.
I blink a few times, brain still lagging behind, and scrub at my eyes.
If reincarnation exists, I’m coming back as my own beagle. This guy is spoiled rotten.
The clock next to the bed says it’s early. Too early for a Saturday, but Buster is a relentless little taskmaster.
I pull my hair up into a messy bun. Then I pull on a loose T-shirt and shorts. As my impatient beagle circles the room, I slide my feet into sneakers. Buster rushes to the door and presses his little nose to the seam, vibrating with anticipation. I clip on his leash.
The second he hears the click, Buster launches himself down the hallway like he’s shot from a cannon. I have to jog to keep up. My legs are noodles, and my brain’s not even booted up yet, but this dog? Full speed. No days off.
I shuffle after him, yawning so wide my jaw cracks. I look like I went twelve rounds with my pillow and lost, but Buster acts like I’m his personal fitness coach. We hit the elevator, and he wags so hard he actually bonks his head on the door.
There’s nobody else awake in the hallway, which is exactly how I like it since I’m not even wearing a bra.
We make it through the lobby without running into anyone I know.
Bless. We head out to the dog park. “You have to hurry,” I tell Buster as he starts sniffing the grass.
“Daddy should be home soon.” Hunter’s been on shift since yesterday morning, and he’s due home by eight a.m. My heart does a little tap dance at the thought.
Buster finally does his business, and then it’s straight back inside.
After feeding Buster his breakfast, I head to the kitchen to make Hunter breakfast. I add grounds and water to the coffeepot. Then the machine gurgles and spits as it comes alive.
The apartment is a study in opposites. Hunter’s half is organized to within an inch of its life—remote controls at perfect right angles, shoes lined up in military formation, while my chaos is already creeping in.
There’s a riot of throw pillows on the couch, a rainbow mug drying by the sink, Buster’s pizza-shaped chew toy abandoned in the middle of the living room like a land mine.
I crack eggs into a bowl, beat them until my wrist aches, and line up strips of bacon on the skillet. Buster appears at my feet, sniffing the air and giving me his best “starving puppy” eyes, even though he just freaking ate. I toss him a chunk of cheese, which he devours with comical drama.
There’s a weird, fizzy happiness bubbling in my chest. I want everything to be perfect when Hunter gets home.
At seven-fifty-five, I hear the deadbolt click and my pulse spikes.
Hunter comes in with his head down, shoulders hunched under a threadbare navy hoodie. He looks wrecked—eyes hollow, hair a mess, skin shadowed with stubble. But when he sees me at the stove, something behind his eyes sharpens and comes alive.
He doesn’t say a word. Just drops his keys in the dish by the door, shrugs out of his hoodie, and beelines for me.
In three strides, he’s behind me, hands anchoring to my hips, body pressed so close I can feel his heartbeat in my back. He buries his face in my hair and breathes in, deep and shuddering.
“Fuck, Sunshine,” he rumbles, voice so low it vibrates through my bones. “I missed you.”
His arms wrap all the way around, pinning me against his chest. My hands go slack on the spatula as his mouth finds my neck, lips dragging slow and hot just under my ear.
I can’t help the noise that escapes me—a whimper, needy and helpless. I tip my head, giving him full access.
“You’re going to make me burn the bacon,” I gasp, but there’s no real protest in it. My whole body is melting, turning liquid under the relentless press of his hands.
He grunts, slides one palm under the hem of my T-shirt, and finds bare skin. His hand is huge and hot and calloused, splaying across my stomach. I suck in a breath as his thumb traces lazy circles at my waist, dipping lower with each pass.
“Fuck the bacon,” Hunter says into my hair, voice rough and raw. “I need you.” His hands keep moving, possessive, mapping every inch of my skin. He nips my earlobe and then murmurs, “I missed you so goddamn much.”
He turns off the stove and places the pot on a cool burner. Then he turns me in his arms and lifts me. When he deposits me on the edge of the counter, I gasp at the cool surface under my bare legs. He steps between my knees and pulls me forward until there’s not an inch of space left between us.
He kisses me hard. The kind of kiss that leaves no doubt about who owns whom.
“Missed you too,” I say, voice shaking with how badly I mean it.
Hunter leans over and kisses me. The world tilts at a dangerous angle when he slides his hands up under the T-shirt and yanks me closer by my hips. The force of it makes me gasp, and he eats the sound right out of my mouth.
My thighs clamp around his waist, and he grinds in, just enough for me to feel how hard he is through his pants that have definitely seen better days. The pressure sends a jolt through my core, and I arch, grabbing at the sharp angles of his shoulders for leverage.
“Come shower with me.” He plants both hands on my ass, lifting me off the counter like I weigh nothing.
I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks me down the hallway, lips never leaving my jaw, my throat, my shoulder.
He’s growling, low and constant, and every noise vibrates straight through my body.
He shoves the bathroom door open with his hip and sets me on the edge of the sink to start the shower, then he peels off the T-shirt I’m wearing and tosses it to the tile.
I wiggle out of my shorts and undies and let them drop.
For a beat, he just looks, hands braced on the edge of the sink, eyes so fucking hungry it actually makes my knees shake.
“God, you’re perfect,” he says, more animal than man.
I can’t take it. I yank at his pants, hard enough to nearly topple myself. “You’re overdressed,” I tell him, trying and failing to sound as cool as I want to. “Fix it.”
He does. His shirt, pants, and boxers hit the floor.
Underneath, he’s already hard, thick, and flushed, the sight of him making my mouth go dry.
He doesn’t give me long to gawk. With one arm around my waist, he hauls me upright and into the shower, and the blast of hot water is a shock to the system.
We’re instantly soaked, hair sticking to skin, water streaming over every inch. I shove my hands through his hair, digging in as he bends to mouth my collarbone, nipping at the delicate skin above my breast. It’s all touch and sensation, no space for thinking or talking or even breathing.
He pins me against the tile and goes to his knees. I give a little yelp when he grabs my left thigh and throws it over his shoulder, opening me up. For a second, I’m embarrassed, then he slides two fingers through my folds, and my mind shuts down completely.
“I’m going to eat you for breakfast.” His breath is hot, words nearly lost in the roar of water.
I shake my head, wild with it. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my inner thigh, and then he licks me. Slow and sweet at first, just teasing. Then he sucks my clit between his lips, just like that, and I nearly lose my balance. I dig my fingers into his hair and hold on for dear life.
He works me with his mouth, switching between torturously light flicks and deep, insistent pressure, until my knees are jelly and I’m begging, actually begging, for more. His name is a prayer on my tongue, half drowned out by the water and the slap of his hand as he grips my ass, holding me steady.
When I start to shake, he adds a finger, then another, fucking me slow and deep while his tongue never lets up. The coil in my belly snaps, and I come so hard I see actual stars, nails scraping his scalp, sobbing his name like it’s the only word I know.
He stands and kisses me, all tongue and teeth, and I taste myself on him.
It’s filthy and perfect, and I want him inside me right now.
He lifts me up, and I wrap my leg around his waist. I reach down, fisting his cock, so thick and hot.
I have to guide it between my legs, lining him up with my entrance.
“Jesus, Iris,” he groans, forehead pressed to mine. “I need you so goddamn much.”
“Good,” I mutter as he thrusts into me, hard and slow, holding on tight to my ass. The position is brutal, every movement hitting deep. I claw at his back, desperate for something to hold on to.
He kisses me, and I bite his lip. “Faster,” I demand, and he gives it to me. He traps me between his body and the cold marble wall.
The tempo builds, bodies slapping together, the wet sound almost obscene. My head thumps the wall, and I don’t care; I just want to keep him inside, keep this feeling forever.
He fucks me like he owns me, and I let him. Because he does. He already owns me, heart and soul. There’s no space for thoughts. Just his cock pounding inside, his mouth on my neck, his hands everywhere at once.
The second orgasm sneaks up on me, sharper than before. My legs start to shake, and I cry out, voice going high and thin as everything tightens around him.
“Come for me, Sunshine,” he grits, barely more than a growl.
I do. I fall apart, body convulsing, nails raking his shoulders, screaming as I clamp down on his cock.
He follows a beat later, slamming in and shuddering, the hot pulse of him filling me up.
He holds there, breathing hard as we sag against each other, the spray of the shower gradually going from scalding to lukewarm.
He nuzzles into my hair and whispers, “I love you.” My heart stops.
I mean, actually stops. Like, I’m pretty sure I flatline for a millisecond before his words sink in.
Did he just…?
“I love you,” Hunter whispers again.
Oh my God.
My knees buckle. If he wasn’t literally pinning me to the shower wall, I’d slide right onto the tile and become a puddle of goo. My vision goes a little swimmy at the edges.
He said it. He said it. Real words, actual meaning, no takebacks.
My hands tremble as I cup his jaw, water streaming off my arms, and I have to look at him, really look, just to make sure this is real. His eyes are dark and golden, and so open that I know he’s telling me the truth.
I open my mouth, but my throat’s all locked up. Happy tears prick at my eyes. “I love you, too.”
I barely get the words out before Hunter’s mouth crashes over mine. He kisses like he’s starved for it, like he’s been waiting an eternity to hear me say those three words, and now he’s going to devour me, right here, on the spot.