Chapter 20
Hunter
The next afternoon, Mom picked Isla up after lunch with promises of the zoo, ice cream, and absolutely no buying stuffed animals, which meant they would come home with at least two.
The second the door closed, the condo felt empty and quiet.
Catherine came over just after three, still in arena clothes, hair pulled back, cheeks a little pink from the heat outside.
I opened the door, and for one second, neither of us said anything.
Then she stepped into me. I wrapped my arms around her and held on.
Her face pressed into my chest. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I missed you.”
My hand slid into her hair. “I missed you too.”
She lifted her head, and I kissed her. It should’ve been a simple hello kiss, but the second my mouth touched hers, something in me sparked to life.
Two days of not touching her. Two days of trying to be careful, responsible, realistic.
Two days of pretending I wasn’t thinking about her every time I looked at my kitchen counter.
I backed her against the door and kissed her until her fingers twisted in my shirt.
“Hunter,” she whispered.
“I know.” I rested my forehead against hers. “I know.”
We made it to the couch because I forced myself to move there. The bedroom could wait.
At least, that was the lie I told myself. Catherine curled into the corner with one leg tucked under her, and I sat beside her, close enough that our knees touched. Her hand found mine almost immediately. That small touch did more to me than it should have.
“How’s Isla?” she asked.
“Good. Happy to be home.”
Catherine smiled. Silence settled.
I looked down at our joined hands. “I feel guilty.”
Her fingers stilled. “About what?”
“Cole and Holland.”
Her face changed.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Me too.”
“They trust me,” I said. “I keep telling myself we’re adults. That we’re not doing anything wrong.”
“But sneaking around makes it feel wrong,” she noted. It was a relief to hear she felt the same way.
I turned toward her. “Maybe we should tell them.”
Her head snapped up. “No.”
The answer came too fast.
I frowned. “Catherine.”
“No. Hunter, no.”
“I’m not saying we walk into their kitchen tonight and announce everything. I’m saying if we want to date, maybe we should be honest before we get deeper.”
“If we tell them, we won’t have time to figure out what we are,” she countered.
“I don’t want that,” I admitted.
“My dad may go nuclear. He always told me that he didn’t want me with a hockey player,” she said.
That hurt, but I understood where Cole was coming from. We spent a lot of time on the road, and the job could be dangerous.
She pulled her hand from mine and rubbed her palms over her thighs.
“My parents sacrificed so much for me. My dad was gone all the time because of hockey, and my mom worked insane shifts, and they still showed up for everything. They gave me every opportunity. They trusted me. They believed I’d do something big with my life. ”
“You are doing something big,” I said.
“I’m sneaking around with my dad’s player.”
I winced. Not because she was wrong. Because she sounded like she hated herself for it.
“You’re not a disappointment,” I said.
Her eyes flashed. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” I replied.
“No, you don’t,” she insisted, and her voice cracked, just enough to gut me. “This isn’t the life my dad wants for me. He wants me to build my career. To be respected. To not be a team rumor before I even have a real job.”
I leaned forward. “Catherine, anyone who turns you into a rumor because of me answers to me.”
“That’s not how it works,” she said, and she wasn’t wrong. The media loved to make up stories about our lives. If us dating became a story, it would make her look bad.
“I know.” I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“Do you?” She looked at me, eyes bright now.
“Because you’re Hunter Russell. Captain.
Established. Everyone already respects you.
If this comes out, people will say I’m the coach’s daughter who slept with a player.
They’ll say I didn’t earn my place. They’ll say I’m stupid or naive or chasing an athlete. ”
Rage moved through me, hot and immediate. But underneath it was something worse. Because she was right, and I hated that.
“I don’t want that for you,” I said.
“I know.” Her voice softened. “That’s why I don’t want to tell them yet. I’m not saying never. I’m just saying not now.”
I dragged a hand over my jaw, trying to think like a grown man and not like a guy who wanted to keep her no matter the cost.
“I’m a parent too,” I said. “And if Isla came to me one day scared to tell me she was with someone because she thought I’d be disappointed, I’d hate that.”
Catherine looked down.
“I’d want her happy,” I continued. “Even if it wasn’t what I pictured.”
She lifted her eyes to mine. “Even if he was nine years older?”
My mouth opened. Nothing came out. That was annoying. Because apparently my moral argument had limits when applied to my own daughter.
Catherine’s mouth twitched, but her eyes stayed sad. “Exactly.”
I exhaled and leaned back against the couch. “Okay. Point made. There is an age gap between us, but I feel like we get each other. We’re open, and I feel connected to you.”
“I feel the same, which is why I want to give us a fighting chance,” she replied.
My chest expanded and filled from her words.
“We keep dating,” I said. “We see where this goes, and we keep this private.”
I took her hand in mine and kissed the back of it. At the end of the day, I knew I would do whatever it took to make her happy.
Her shoulders eased. “Really?”
“Yes. I want to make you happy. Whatever it takes,” I said. “I just don’t want us to hurt your career or reputation, but I want to make you mine.”
She shifted closer. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”
My entire body reacted before my brain caught up. “Catherine.”
“What?” She blinked at me like she hadn’t just thrown a grenade into the conversation.
“You can’t say that after we have a serious discussion about your parents,” I noted.
“I can. I did.”
I stared at her. She moved closer, one knee brushing my thigh.
“We’re talking about dating and where this goes, and we haven’t even done the most obvious part.” She climbed into my lap, slow enough that I could have stopped her.
Her hands settled on my shoulders. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” The answer was obvious to me. I had been going at her pace because I cared a lot about her. She was special to me, and every time we were together that feeling inside me just got larger.
She kissed me, and every responsible thought I had left the room.
My hands went to her waist. Hers slid into my hair.
Our lips tangled, and our tongues came out to play, turning the heat up inside me fast. I wanted her to know this wasn’t just sex to me.
Then she rolled her hips against mine, and my grip tightened.
“Catherine,” I warned.
“I’m sure, Hunter. I want you inside me.”
I closed my eyes for half a second. This woman. This impossible, stubborn, reckless, beautiful woman. I stood with her in my arms.
She gasped and grabbed my neck. “Hunter.”
“I’ve got you,” I said as if it were a promise. I kissed her once, hard. “Argue with me later.”
I carried her to my bedroom because I wanted to feel the weight of choosing her. Because if this was a mistake, it was one I was done pretending I didn’t want. I laid her on my bed, and for a second, I just looked at her.
“I know we haven’t figured out what we’re doing. I know it’s complicated. I know your father might murder me and your mother might help hide the body.”
That got a shaky smile out of her.
“I want you, Catherine Celia, because you’re a kind, caring, beautiful woman with such a good heart.”
Her eyes shone.
“I want you too, Hunter. I’ve never been with a man like you before. I’ve never felt so comfortable and cared for before.”
“That’s what I want, baby,” I said.
I kissed her slowly. I took my time learning the shape of her mouth again.
The small sound she made when my hand slid beneath her shirt.
The way her back arched when my thumb brushed the underside of her breast. I undressed her piece by piece, watching her watch me, both of us quiet in a way that felt more intimate than the dirty things we’d already done.
When her shirt came off, I kissed her shoulder.
When her bra followed, I kissed the spot just above her heart. She trembled.
“You okay?” I asked.
“More than okay.” Her fingers tightened in my hair. “Don’t stop.”
I kissed my way down her body, taking the time I’d promised her two nights ago.
Her stomach tightened under my mouth. Her hands tugged at my shirt, impatient, and I let her pull it over my head.
The second her palms touched my chest, I felt it everywhere.
I took off the rest of her clothes, then mine, and when I came back over her, skin to skin, she sucked in a breath.
“Hunter.”
“I know.”
I moved down her body, sucking on each of her nipples as her fingers tangled in my hair.
“Hunter,” she said. I loved the way she moaned my name.
“I got you, baby.” I licked her nipple and moved to the other. She was pressing against my cock, needing friction, and I lowered my finger and circled her clit. “So wet for me.”
“Yes,” she hissed. Her head tilted back, and she reached down and took hold of my cock. She began to pump me. “I can’t wait to have you inside me.”
“I’m trying to take my time with you, Catherine,” I said.
She moaned. I slid a finger inside her and felt her clench around me. She reached up and began kissing my neck.
“How do you want me, baby? Do you want to ride me? Do you want me to take you from behind?” I kept circling her clit and then pumping inside her with my finger.
“I want it all, Hunter,” she said, lost to lust.
That pulled a smile out of me. I watched her unraveling. Watched her give herself over to the lust, to me. I reached for the condom in my nightstand.
“Let me help you with that,” she said.
She ripped the wrapper as I continued to finger fuck her.
She moaned as she sheathed my cock. Then I settled between her thighs.
I wanted to rush. Every part of me wanted to sink into her heat and lose my mind.
Instead, I kissed her slowly. Until her body softened under mine and her legs wrapped around my hips.
Only then did I push inside. The first inch nearly ruined me.
Catherine’s lips parted. Her nails dug into my shoulders, not enough to hurt, enough to tell me she felt it too.
I stopped. “Okay?”
She nodded, but her eyes were closed.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes opened. Mine wasn’t the right word.
It felt too soon. Still, it was the word my body wanted.
I moved again, careful, slow, giving her time to adjust to my size.
Her breath hitched. Mine wasn’t any better.
By the time I was fully inside her, I had to stop and bury my face against her neck before I embarrassed myself like a teenager.
“Hunter,” she moaned. She touched my face and whispered, “Move.”
So I moved slow at first. Long, deep strokes that made her grip the sheets and arch beneath me.
She felt too good. Warm and tight and perfect in a way that made every thought splinter.
I kept my eyes on her because I needed to see her.
Her body told me everything. The tilt of her hips.
The way she pulled me closer. The soft, broken sounds she tried to swallow until I kissed them out of her.
“There,” she gasped as I pulled myself up on my hands and held one of her legs at my waist. I was thrusting deep inside her, and she was squeezing my cock so hard I was lost. She met each one of my strokes as we chased the ecstasy.
“Yes,” she cried out.
I kept the pace, thrusting fast into her tight little pussy.
She clenched around me, squeezing my cock in the best fucking way.
Her head tipped back. Her fingers dragged down my back.
My name left her mouth, soft at first, then not soft at all.
I slid a hand between us, finding her clit, and her whole body tightened.
“Hunter.”
“I’ve got you.”
“I’m close.”
“I know, baby.”
Her eyes flew to mine. The way she clenched around me almost ended me.
“Come for me,” I said, voice rough. “I want to feel it.”
She broke under me. Her orgasm rolled through her, and I felt every second of it.
Her body gripped mine, pulling me deeper, her mouth opened, and she moaned.
Whatever control I had left was gone as I thrust once.
Twice. Then I followed her over the edge, burying my face in her neck as my own release tore through me hard enough to leave me shaking.
For a long time, neither of us moved. I stayed over her, careful not to crush her, my heart pounding against hers.
Her fingers moved slowly through my hair.
“That was…” she whispered.
I lifted my head. “Yeah.”
When I finally pulled away to clean up, she made a small protesting sound that nearly had me getting back into bed immediately.
“Water,” I said, forcing myself to be responsible.
“I don’t need water.”
“You do.”
“You’re bossy after sex too?” she giggled.
“Especially after sex.”
She smiled and tucked the sheet under her arms. “Fine. But hurry.”
I put on boxers because I was not walking naked through the condo, even with Isla gone, and headed to the kitchen. I filled two glasses at the sink, still half in my bedroom mentally, still feeling Catherine’s hands on my back and her mouth against mine. Then I heard the front door open.
My entire body froze.
“Dad?” Isla’s voice called, small and tired.
The glasses nearly slipped from my hands. My mother stepped inside behind her, one hand on Isla’s shoulder, her purse over her arm.
“She had a stomach ache,” Mom said, looking up. “She wanted to come home early.”
I stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers, hair a mess, two glasses of water in my hands. My mother looked at me. Then down the hall toward my bedroom. Then back at me. Her eyes narrowed. Behind me, my bedroom door was open. And Catherine was in my bed.