by Jenna Scott
The thoughts in my head are suddenly a mess I can’t begin to untangle. Coming here with him might have been a terrible idea, especially after I insisted we be casual.
“Milla,” Hunter says, a teasing edge to his voice. “Did you just realize you’re going to have to sleep naked?”
Heat burns my cheeks. “Yes.”
“If you’re that embarrassed, I can ditch my boxer briefs and go commando with you.” He’s smiling, eyebrows raised, as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt.
Heat pools between my thighs as I remember our first time together. I know Hunter can tell what’s going through my mind, because he tosses his shirt onto a chair and keeps that seductive grin on his face as he starts taking off his pants.
A knot of fear ties my stomach. But it’s not Hunter that I’m scared of—it’s myself. The way I get when it’s just the two of us, with no chance of being walked in on. Like my need for him is so intense that I’ll burst into flames if I don’t get what I want. Shoving my apprehension away, I unzip my dress and slide out of it, draping it over the back of the chair. When I turn around, in nothing but my skimpy lace hip huggers, Hunter’s already under the covers. He’s watching me, lips parted, his gaze full of desire.
I know exactly what he sees. My big, dark eyes. My hair, long and soft and silky. My round breasts and pebbled pink nipples, the curve of my belly and my thighs.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask, my voice coming out a throaty purr.
“I meant what I said,” Hunter tells me. “I didn’t bring you here for sex. I just want to be next to you. Let’s try to get some sleep.”
It sounds more like pleading with me than rejecting me, and I wonder how long his resolve will last. Still, I slip between the sheets and roll onto my side to face the opposite way. I’m not trying to tempt him on purpose, after all.
The lights turn off. The moment Hunter slides over to me, the temperature turns up a million degrees. He spoons me gently, arm draped over my waist, his hand in mine as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do.
And I can feel every one of his muscles against my back.
His nose touches the back of my neck, and he presses his lips against the sensitive skin there. My breath picks up, and I accidentally shift my bottom half, bringing my butt smack into a semi.
“Seriously?” I gasp, looking at him over my shoulder.
“Just ignore it,” Hunter whispers, thumb brushing my knuckles, face nuzzling my nape. “Go to sleep.”
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have a monster cock poking you in the ass!”
“Well, I’m ignoring your hot ass on my dick, and if I can do that…”
It sounds like we’re fighting, which is ridiculous, which has me snickering.
“Oh, this is funny to you?” Hunter tickles me along my waist and my legs flail, laughter spilling out of me. Next thing I know, he’s on top of me, pinning my arms above my head, kissing me stupid, and I’m no longer laughing.
This thirst can’t be normal. I had Hunter inside me less than two hours ago, and I already ache to have him again. Or maybe it is normal. Just look at him—those broad shoulders, the fricking abs, his hard pecs, all of that against me and focused on me. And he’s so, so good at screwing me up in various ways; at least in this one, I’m a willing participant. At least like this, it feels good.
Chapter Fifteen
Hunter
When I wake up in the hotel room, I’m momentarily taken aback by Camilla’s very perfect, very curvy naked body pressed against mine. We fell asleep way after two in the morning, both of us exhausted to the bone.
She was…something yesterday. I’m still in disbelief at what happened, how it happened. Considering how much she always wanted to talk about things, there was a very noticeable absence of talking until after we’d fucked. In the school parking lot. And then again after we got here. As if she couldn’t get enough of me, like I can never get enough of her.
She really has no idea how much power she holds over me, and without even trying. No idea how she messes up my thoughts, how she takes up most of my heart. And it figures that now that she decides she wants us to be casual, I can’t. I do love her, and not just a little bit.
I don’t know how I’m going to pretend to be fine with this arrangement. But casual is better than nothing. Better than the misery that is being without Milla.
These past few weeks were some of the worst of my life. Going back to that emptiness after summer is over and she goes off to college is unthinkable. So is losing her once she meets someone else at her new school and leaves me behind. Because regardless of how much I’ve fucked things up for her, I know she’ll find a way to make it work. College is her dream, and she might be the most driven, stubborn, self-motivated person I know. That’s one of the reasons I love her.
I had no right to take away her scholarship. That much I know, and I regret that I did it in the first place. Something just broke in my brain when I started to think about what would happen if she actually had that much money for college in her hands—there was simply no way she’d ever choose me or UC San Diego over Stanford, her dream school. Despite her reassurances, I was convinced she’d forget all about me once moving to Nor Cal to be a Cardinal became a real possibility. So I selfishly pulled the rug out from under her. I really am a scumbag. I don’t deserve a girl like her.
And yet, somehow she ended up back in my arms. Of her own free will.
As I move my hand down the line of her body, she stirs, but doesn’t wake. In the glow of the rising sun, it almost looks like she’s radiating light, a real-life angel. A small smile tugs at her lips, and I wonder if she’s dreaming of me the same way I dream of her.
What can I do to make her want to stay with me? How can I get her to move back home with me, where she belongs? And if I can’t tell her how much I love her, how do I show it?
Camilla suddenly lets out a soft, sleepy moan, and the sound riles me up instantly. But my own gratification is the last thing on my mind. I tug up the sheets and burrow underneath them. She’s still completely naked, which gives me an advantage for what I’m about to do.
I gently pull her thighs apart, spread her lower lips with my fingers, and take a long, deep lick of her pussy, from the bottom to the top. Her hips buck, and she wakes with a shocked gasp.
“What are you—” She collapses back against the pillows, back arching, her fingers clutching at my shoulders through the sheets. “Hunter!”
“I’m waking you up,” I murmur, twirling her clit with my tongue until she spasms. “And having breakfast at the same time.”
She pushes the blankets off me and looks down at me, her eyes liquid lust.
“But,” she whimpers, “first thing in the morning?”
“Why not? I can’t think of a more perfect way to start the day…” My tongue darts inside her, and she groans as her cunt clenches. I drink her taste in, sweet with a hint of salt. “Than eating this pretty pussy out.”
A long sigh that morphs into another moan. It’s music to my ears. “God, you’re a perv,” she tells me.
I look up at her. Her chest is rising and falling with quick breaths, and I can’t help smiling at how visibly turned on she is. It’s so fucking hot, and what’s even hotter is knowing how easily I can do this to her.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, trailing a line on the inside of her shivering thigh. I don’t want to. I know she doesn’t want me to. But it’s such a turn-on to ask, and an even bigger turn-on to see her give in to me.
“I mean…” She shifts her hips from side to side. “You’re already down there.”
“Right? It would be such a shame…” I trace her slit with my tongue as gently as I can, teasing her. “To leave this pretty pussy all wet.” My lips return to the nub above and suck it into my mouth. Milla’s leg muscles shake, and I have to hold her in place with all the squirming that’s taking her over.
She digs her fingers into my hair, softly tugging at it wh
ile I lick her clean. No matter how much I drink, I can’t get enough; the more I taste, the more I want. Soon enough she’s bucking against my mouth, holding my head in place as she fucks my tongue. I want to encourage her but I can’t move or speak, so instead I just moan against her pussy, hoping she can feel the vibrations as she rides my face.
“Hunter,” she’s gasping over and over, her thrusts getting faster and more desperate.
“Mm-hmm,” I respond in a throaty rumble, trying to push her over the edge. She’s so wet. I don’t know if she’ll be able to orgasm like this, but I want her to.
“Fuck,” she whispers. “I’m coming.”
Milla groans loudly through clenched teeth, trying to hold back a scream, her thighs squeezing the sides of my head as she shudders around my mouth. She suddenly goes limp and falls back against the pillows with her arm across her forehead, chest heaving. There’s another moan from her when I sit up and slide a finger across her slick opening, and she bites her lip when she sees me lick my finger clean.
Although I’m hard as steel and desperate to be inside her again, I don’t make a move. Instead, I lie on my side, facing her. “How was it?”
Milla’s breath is still shallow, her eyes drifting closed, voice throaty when she answers with, “I have no words.”
“That might be a first.” With a smile, I kiss the corner of her jaw. Her neck. Her chin. Her lips.
I feel her hand make its way down, below my waist, to where my dick is begging for her. “Don’t you want to…” she starts to ask.
“Not if you don’t,” I tell her. “I can wait.”
Milla looks at me for a long moment before taking hold of my jaw and pulling me in for a kiss. It’s a lazy one, our tongues dancing slowly, and fuck. I love her so much, yet I can’t say it.
“I want to,” she whispers, her lips brushing mine between words, then curving into a smile. “Not to mention it would be a shame to leave that last condom unused.”
A small laugh rumbles in my chest.
Afterward, neither of us makes a move to leave the bed. I lie next to Milla, sliding an arm under her to pull her to my side. She reaches out to palm my cheek and kisses me gently before resting her head on my shoulder.
“Move back in,” I tell her.
She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Please. Karleigh hasn’t stopped nagging my dad about finding a new sitter and she keeps picking fights with your mom. And my dad, he…” I bite my tongue before I tell her about the absolute hell it’s been back home. The things he said once he realized I’d been dating Milla. Blaming me for the trouble left in the wake of her absence, demanding I go fix it. As if I hadn’t tried.
“Your dad what?” she prods.
I blink away the blur in my sight. “He’s been a nightmare. Which, it’s not even about me. It’s that Harrison will see or overhear things that he shouldn’t.”
Milla stiffens, her fingers stilling on my chest. “I’m sorry it’s been hard on Harry. I really am. But—”
“It’s my fault that you’re not there,” I say. “Just tell me what I have to do to put things back the way they were.”
She presses her lips together but doesn’t argue or try to dissuade me from my guilt. “There would have to be ground rules. And you can’t break them.”
All right. I can work with that. Maybe. “What kind of ground rules?”
“Um…” Milla traces circles on my pec. “No hijacking my time with Harry unless you’re invited. No secreting me away into hidden corners so we can make out. No interrupting my studying sessions or homework time with lewd suggestions.”
I nod and hug her closer. “Okay. What does that leave me?”
Milla raises her head. “We can still have lunch together. You can still drive me to and from school. We can go on dates. And if we’re alone at home, we can…” Her head tilts a bit to the side. “You know. Do things. I just want to be sure we make time to be apart. Not get too carried away.”
I want to tell her it isn’t enough. That we can’t not go back to being “too much,” because it’s already like that for me. But I can’t blame her for not trusting me, and I can’t blame her for wanting to put some emotional distance between us. These are the consequences for what I’ve done—and if this is what it takes to earn Milla back, I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.
“What do we tell people? ‘Cause you know they’re gonna ask.”
“The truth,” she answers with a sigh. “That we’re dating again.”
“What about Harrison?”
“Wouldn’t the whole thing just confuse him?” She frowns.
It probably would. Still, I don’t want to hide that we’re together, not when I’m already hiding the way I really feel about her. “He’ll overhear our parents talking about it, anyway. Might as well just tell him. He won’t mind.” I brush the curve of her spine with my thumb. “We can tell him we’re like Hiccup and Astrid.”
Her brow quirks up along with her lips, and she goes red all over. It’s how she gets when she’s thinking of something naughty.
“You’re thinking dirty thoughts, aren’t you?”
She pouts. “I’m not saying it.”
“Milla.” I nudge the tip of her nose. “Come on.
“Ugh. Fine.” A resigned groan leaves her mouth, and she inhales before saying, “Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say we’re like Hiccup and Toothless?”
Yup. Naughty thoughts. I knew it.
A chuckle leaves me slowly. “Because I mount you?”
“That too. But I was thinking along the lines of me riding a monster. Namely, the one you have in your pants.”
My laughter starts small, and grows bigger, and so does hers. Then we’re kissing and smiling as we kiss. I feel better than I have in weeks, and it’s all because Milla’s here with me, because I can kiss her, and hold her, and run my hands through her silky dark hair.
“Let’s go home?” I ask.
She nods. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter Sixteen
Camilla
Turns out that waking up to Hunter’s head between my legs is…not the worst thing in existence. It’s certainly better than waking up to an alarm clock. Once we get out of bed, I take a quick shower, and Hunter goes in after me. Dress and shoes back on, I scroll through my phone, and of course, I have several unanswered texts from Isabel.
Sooo, how’s it going? You need me to come to the rescue?
OMG you aren’t answering. I know what that means… ; )
Girl it’s 1 am and you’re still not answering! Come up for air and text me back!
At 2 am: Milla…
Okay, I give up. But I want all the deets ASAP.
To be honest, I’m sort of dreading her reaction to me and Hunter officially getting back together. Even so, there’s no way I can keep it a secret from her—and it’s not like she hasn’t basically figured it out already. So I bite the bullet and tell her.
Sorry! I didn’t check my phone. But yeah. Still with Hunter.
I cringe when I see the dots telling me she’s writing something. God, she’s going to read me to oblivion, isn’t she? And I should be read to oblivion—who gets back together with the douchebag who tried to sabotage her life? Me, apparently.
Does that mean you forgive him, after everything he’s done? the text reads. Or was it more of a one-night stand/sex with the ex kind of thing?
I sigh and write back, It’s complicated. I’ll tell you when I get to your place.
My stomach’s rumbling, and my head is starting to ache by the time Hunter emerges from the bathroom, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. He throws on his pants, and as he buttons up his shirt, he asks, “Wanna stop somewhere for breakfast?”
He’s bound to be as hungry as I am—we did engage in quite a bit of strenuous exercise last night, and it’s left behind a trace. Not just the humongous appetite for food; my entire body is sore, like I’ve run twenty laps around t
he Academy’s campus.
“Yeah, let’s,” I answer. “Can you take me to Isabel’s after? So I can pick up my stuff and probably get the earful of a lifetime.”
He throws his jacket over his shoulder. “Sure.”
We stop for bagel sandwiches and coffee, neither of us talking because we’re equally ravenous. Hunter manages to devour two to my one, and by the time we leave Pannikin, I’m feeling better prepared to handle what I imagine will be Isabel’s scolding.
“Do you want me to go in with you?” he asks when we pull up.
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” I tell him.
Truthfully, I’m a little afraid of Isabel’s stink eye. But she doesn’t give me any of it when she opens the door—sure, she frowns at Hunter’s car, but not at me—me, she sweeps into a huge hug before pulling me into the house.
“Tell. Me. Everything,” she says as we go upstairs.
And I do, even though it’s awkward as shit and I’m dreading telling her that I’m going to be moving back to Hunter’s place. I want nothing but to crawl into a hole and have sand poured on me, but Isabel deserves the full story. Not just because she let me crash with her for the past few weeks, but because she’s my best friend.
I tell her Emmett and I kissed, which has her gasping, then pouting when I add that neither of us felt a thing. That he and I talked about Hunter, and it became clear to me that I did love him in spite of all the crap he pulled. That Emmett and I were dancing, until Hunter showed up and made a scene (which, yes, she had heard about). That he almost punched Emmett and I had to pull him back. That, after I apologized to Emmett, he told me to go after Hunter.
She already knows that he and I spent the night together. I don’t elaborate too much, but Isabel knows what I’m not saying. Such as the fact that Hunter and I didn’t exactly spend the night just talking.
“We’re keeping it casual for now,” I finish, and before she can jump in and tell me that’s just douche code for “free to fuck around,” I add, “It was my idea.”
