by Nora Flite
I didn't know. It didn't matter. His eyes pulled the words out of me and I didn't have time to catch or question them. "Of course," I blurted. "I don't want to stop this. It's stupid—" I saw him flinch, I pushed on. "But whatever. We've gone this far."
His eyebrows leveled off into the same severe shape as his mouth. "Say it. You want me, Jo."
I pushed my hands down to the top of his boxers under the water. "I want you. Now take me inside, who knows who's been in this thing before us."
Laughing huskily, he scooped me up and climbed out into the air. The cold was brief, Hunter carted me into the hotel room like I was a football he was using to score. His suite was huge and empty now, and I fought down another brief wave of shame when I saw the remainders of the party.
I'd chased off all the women trying to sleep with Hunter tonight.
Here I was, now, sabotaging my efforts.
He dropped me onto his gigantic bed, neither of us commenting on how we were dripping water on the expensive blankets. With his weight over me, I wrapped my thighs around him and leaned up to savor his lips again. He ground against me in his dripping boxers, his erection almost painful with how furiously it rocked against my hardly-protected pussy.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all night," he breathed out in a rush.
I slid a hand between us, inside his boxers, taking his length in my hand. The warmth and size of it sent icy-hot tingles to my core. My moan was honest; helpless. I didn’t want to miss out on the one million erotic possibilities I had with Hunter. I hadn’t been with a man in months, and I’d never dreamed of being with someone as hot as he was, jackass behavior from earlier notwithstanding.
He cupped my cheek, making me look at him. Without blinking he smirked and said, “I'm going to fuck you, but you know that. What you might not know is how good it's going to be. I ruin girls, Jo. One taste of me and you'll be hooked and you can't do a damn thing about it."
I knew men who bragged. This wasn't a brag. Hunter was speaking with the curt certainty of someone who could see into the future. The brutal rawness of his promise hit me hard. My ears rang, blood surging through my whole being as I tried to keep up with the slick erotic urge he was building in me.
He rolled onto his side, showing off the gigantic tent in his boxers. Air fled my lungs at the sight of it. The flimsy and wet material did nothing to hide the arching shape of his thick cock.
Hunter went to reach down, but I beat him there. Crawling down his body I tugged at the elastic of his boxers. It came away easy, his dick springing out like it needed to breathe and the cloth had been suffocating it.
Swallowing, I laughed nervously. "Holy hell."
"I take that to mean you like what you see."
Flicking my eyes up at him, I stared at his naked cock with mixed emotion. There was a primal need in me, something that ached and throbbed and would have soaked my panties if they weren't already ruined from the jacuzzi. Hunter was intimidating—but one look at his smug, boyish grin, and I knew I couldn't back down.
Backing down was losing.
I hate losing.
Gently, I traced my finger down the soft underside of his shaft. Hunter groaned openly, his hips rising to meet my touch. Thrilled by his eagerness, I slid lower on the bed, my cheek nearing his cock. His scent made me dizzy, the musk clawing at me, coaxing me to give in and taste him.
At the tender lick of my tongue, he hissed my name. "Jo, fuck—that's so good." I wiggled my hips, reveling in the knowledge he was enjoying himself. I sure was. Wetting my lips, I started to swallow the tip of his fat cock-head. I wanted to go slow, but he'd have none of it.
Winding his fingers in my hair, he pushed me down until I was choking on his length. He was losing himself, forgetting in his lust that I needed oxygen. I was just as crazy; he tasted delicious, his veins flexing on my tongue and making me see stars.
A split second before I blacked out, he ripped himself free with a grunt. "Not like this," he said, breathing heavily. "I want to bury myself as far as I can into your tight pussy. That's where I belong."
“Hunter,” I gasped as he lowered himself onto me. I couldn’t help but run my hands over his biceps. They were rock-like beneath his smooth skin. I let my hand drift down his arm, feeling the sharp ridge of his triceps. He kissed my neck, his fingertips sliding low enough to tease me through my thin panties.
And then I did the unthinkable—I whimpered.
His chuckle was low and dark. "You can't resist me, can you? You can't stop—you want to lose control with me."
The pressure of his thumb on my clit was constant. Perfectly, like we'd made love a hundred times, he made patient circles that drove me wild. "Yes," I panted. "Let me just do this. Fuck me—no games, no regrets, just do it. I want you to."
"You're really sure?" he asked. He didn't stop playing with my swollen pussy lips, but there was no denying the intensity of his question. "You're sure you want me to ruin this corporate pussy of yours? Won't my parents be pissed?"
Damn, his parents. I saw red in my mind's eye—I knew what we were doing was stupid. And then Hunter twisted his fingers, pushing two of them against my slippery panties and right on through so they dug themselves and the fabric into my warm walls.
"Fuck," I moaned, my eyes rolling in my skull. Using just one finger between the band of elastic and my skin, he pulled the thong slowly down my legs. He delicately brushed my clitoris, gently massaging me until my thighs were shaking. He knew his way around a woman’s body, and in that moment, I was thankful for his skills.
Spreading me open, he pressed his chest on mine. My nipples dug into his skin, as eager as the rest of me. I was peaking, taut and sweating with my orgasm so near. He flicked me lightly, dipping his fingers into my pussy then out again. "Please," I whispered.
It must have been the magic word, because he kissed me until I couldn't see. Shoving my knees apart, Hunter rubbed his rigid shaft up and down my soaked thighs. Fire exploded at the base of my skull, a voice that said, Use a fucking condom!
Stretching me out, Hunter fed his cock into me inch by inch. I forgot what voices were or what common sense was; nothing had ever felt so amazing. Time ceased passing while he thrust in and out of me, holding me up to him with his arm around my lower back. He wasn't going easy, his body shuddered with exertion as he picked up his pace.
Each stroke was a solid impact, a burst of delirious pleasure rocketing to my core. He'd stopped talking, stopped teasing—this was about fulfilling our base desires. I'd given in to a weakness I never knew existed. And it was fine. If it could make me feel so fucking good, who cared if it was wrong?
Digging my nails into his back, I searched for solid ground. I was rushing towards orgasm and I had no way to stop it. My toes pointed, calves contracting painfully as every nerve in my body focused on achieving pure pleasure.
Hunter bit my ear, his breath scalding me. "I can tell you're close, baby doll. Come for me, let me feel you give in. I need it so damn bad. So do you."
His words broke me down. Fireworks crackled from my scalp to my belly. Hugging him tight, I shouted as loudly as any of the girls he'd probably slept with before had. Don't think about them, I demanded. Another hard stroke of his cock, and I wasn't. I could only focus on Hunter; his muscles, his warmth, how he was filling me to the brim.
Shaking with release, I closed my eyes and let the orgasm roll over me. "I'm there!" I sobbed, my hair getting in my eyes and mouth as I arched violently. "Fuck! I'm coming,
Hunter . . . I'm coming! Aah!"
"I know," he chuckled, groaning as I milked him. "Dammit, that's amazing. Keep going, I'm so close, I'm on the edge." With my juices soaking our skin and the blankets, Hunter pounded into me so hard the sound filled the room. Then, in a great flex of his arms and ass—which was excellent, by the way, and I made sure to feel it—he vibrated as his orgasm hit him.
Warm, thick come poured into me. Hunter swelled further somehow, causing me to whimper in surprise. It almost
hurt but it was a good hurt, a deep massage hurt, a never forget this hurt.
He shuddered, thrusting long after he'd finished. Between us, I felt the thud of his heart. I'd gone from itching for release to suddenly longing to know what he was thinking. Hunter was too quiet after he'd been speaking so dirty to me seconds ago.
His amber eyes floated down, focusing on me as he came back to Earth. Two heart beats, three, and he still said nothing. It was a relief when his lips parted, though instead of noise, he simply kissed me.
The quiet weight of his body on mine was comforting. It was probably as close to snuggling as a guy like him ever got. The cloying warmth and safety sank into my bones. I shut my eyes, wanting to lavish in the strange but wonderful moment as long as I could.
I just slept with Hunter Daniels. It was exactly what I should NOT have done.
4
Jo
When I opened my eyes, the windows were no longer dark. An orange-cream soda of a sun winked at me, announcing it was sunrise and that I'd fallen asleep at some point without realizing it. Yawning, I stretched on the luxurious bed, nuzzling into the pillows.
I think I had literally the best sex dream ever, I thought with a chuckle. Then I rolled on my side, spotting the snoring—and very naked—body beside me. "Hunter!” I exclaimed, rolling off the bed in utter surprise. I hit the floor hard, grunting in pain.
He peeked over the side, squinting down at me with a sleepy smile. His chest was exposed, the sheets barely covering him. "Well, you're a nice sight to wake up to," he said. His hand came down, reaching for me on the floor. I was too stunned to stop him from pulling me towards him for a quick kiss.
Leaning away, I knelt by the mattress. "I—Hunter, whoa, listen, last night . . ."
He tugged at my hair, bringing me in again. His nose rubbed mine, our lips grazing. "Last night," he purred, "was amazing. But let me rest before round two." Rolling over, he wriggled into the blankets. I wasn't sure if he'd been fully awake when he'd kissed me, but he was definitely asleep now.
Baffled, I rose to my feet and scrambled to find my clothes. Fuck fuck fuck! I slept with Hunter. What was I thinking? I had to get my stuff and get out of here. Luckily, I'd barely brought anything, so I tugged my still-damp dress on and stuck my aching feet into my shoes.
Stumbling into the hallway, I came face to face with a maid. I couldn't tell if her sly smile was polite or if she found my walk of shame scandalous.
I offered a, “Good morning!” Like walking through a hotel in a wet dress at seven in the morning was a perfectly natural thing to do. To her credit, she ducked her head and ignored me.
When I got back to my room, I was surprised to see a small suitcase I didn’t recognize. On it was a note from Hunter saying, “Since you didn’t have time to pack.” Inside it was a skirt suit and crisp white blouse similar to what I would have had in my closet, except it was new with tags still on it. When the hell did he arrange this for me? He seemed to be a man of many, many skills.
In the middle of my room, I stood in one place. I moved towards the closet, then the window, then finally I swayed into the bathroom—I just didn't know what to do. I hadn't had sex in a very long time, and I'd certainly never stumbled back to my hotel room alone afterwards like this.
Twisting the shower handles, I filled the small room with steam until it was all I could see. Under the hot water, massaging the tequila out of my temples, memories from the night before rushed back to me in flashes. I remembered Hunter running his hands through my loose hair, down my neck, to my breasts. I had to turn the shower to cold. Just thinking about Hunter was causing my heart rate to pick up.
“Did I really hook up with him?” I said aloud, in shock. Being with Hunter had been nothing but pure pleasure interspersed with rushes of adrenaline. It was so unlike me. I knew I shouldn't have slept with a client—that was poor judgment on my part—but I couldn't say that I regretted it. Not for a second. Being with Hunter was the most exciting thing I could remember.
But it couldn’t happen again. Never.
I hopped out of the shower and put on the new suit. It fit perfectly. I made sure to muss up the bed so it would look like it had been slept in. It was slightly paranoid, but as a P.R. person I knew to cover all of my bases. Better for it to look like I’d slept in my own room.
After I was satisfied that my room looked entirely slept in and not neglected whatsoever, I rushed to the lobby to get a quick breakfast. My stomach was feeling the hangover, and I knew I needed something to soak up the rest of the alcohol.
At the hotel restaurant, I ordered a kale and egg white omelet which came with a side of blueberry breakfast quinoa. Cheers, Los Angeles. Together with three cups of coffee, the breakfast made me feel better. I was about to down the last sip of my coffee when I saw Hunter walking toward me.
His hair was damp, his skin slightly pink like he'd been in the sun too long. I pictured him getting out of the shower, and it was too damn easy, so I instead focused on his outfit. The tight shirt looked like it had never been worn before, his jeans a sharp black that contrasted well with his light grey top.
I couldn't believe how amazing and fresh he looked after a night of partying and sex. I wondered how he would act about the whole—what did I even call it? The thing. Our thing.
I got my answer pretty quickly.
Hunter threw himself into the chair in front of me. “Good morning, sweetheart. Sorry, I mean good morning, Jo. Getting a good meal in? I don't blame you, last night was quite a workout."
I blushed and looked away before my brain caught up with me. This was a professional relationship. I had to get it back on the rails before Hunter got the wrong idea. Just as I was about to launch into a speech about why I couldn’t be his fuck buddy, and how he should watch what he said in public, the waitress came and refilled my coffee cup. "Hey doll," he said to the woman—who promptly perked up at seeing him smile, "Can I get a Bloody Mary with extra celery?"
"Of course, Mr. Daniels!" she gushed, hurrying away and nearly running into another customer.
Shaking my head, I narrowed my eyes on him. “Okay, so, about last night."
“You have nothing to worry about. You were great.”
Did he seriously think I was fretting about my performance? I bit back a snarky reply and cleared my throat. “That’s not what I wanted to discuss. We have to be on the same page about this thing, Hunter.”
“About what thing?” Hunter asked as he drank out of my coffee mug. “It’s not a thing.”
Great, so he didn't know what to call it either. His words stung in spite of the fact I was the one trying to find a way to tactfully erase what we'd done. “I know that. I mean, you
know . . . we can’t just—"
“Look, Jo, we had sex. Amazing sex. You really let yourself go wild." He leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands. "I had no idea you could suck cock so—"
“Keep your voice down!" I cut him off. "We can’t let anyone know this happened.”
“We’re both consenting adults. What’s the big deal?”
“My career is the big deal. And so is yours. So stop acting like some frat boy who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”
That seemed to get through to Hunter, because his smug grin suddenly disappeared. "So you want to pretend it never happened."
"We have to pretend. All we can do is move forward. Ok? Let’s just agree right now to never talk about it again.”
A black cloud hung over him. I thought he was angry, and when the waitress dropped off his drink, he didn't even look at her. The whole time he just stared at me with his hands over his mouth, making me squirm in my chair. Just when I was ready to break and say something, he moved his hands and revealed his smirk. “Fine. Then you'll want these back, I guess.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out my black thong.
I grabbed it off the table, cheeks burning, and shoved it in my purse. “Hunter!”
“What? They look expensive,” he said, chewing on a p
iece of celery. “By the way, you have a really nice body. Do you work out?”
My lips pressed together in a hard line. His question was too blunt, was he even listening to me? Shifting sideways, I looked at the far wall. But it's kind of nice that he thinks I have a good body. Ah, dammit. I was compelled to answer him; maybe it was his stupidly sexy smile. “I rock climb, but that's not really the issue right now, Hunter. We have a problem and I need your cooperation."
“I honestly don't see a problem,” he responded with that devilish glint in his eye.
“Listen. I’m not that kind of girl. I’ve never had a one-night stand. I have boyfriends.”
“You have multiple boyfriends?” His eyebrows shot upwards.
“You know what I mean. I only sleep with the guy I'm dating."
“You're telling me you’re not single? And I thought I was the bad one." He was teasing me, playing off last night like it was no big deal.
My palm came down hard on the table. “I am single. Ugh. You know what I’m saying. Last night was a mistake.”
“Was it? I thought it was fun. Wasn't it fun? There’s nothing wrong with two people having a good time together, Jo.”
His arms crossed, showing off the ink on his skin and how his tendons flexed. All at once I remembered how he'd looked last night, holding himself over me as sweat clung to his square jaw, his lips either kissing mine or poised to do so.
I brought my coffee cup up, hoping to replace my dirty thoughts with bitter liquid, but my cup was empty. Hunter wasn't wrong—I'd loved sleeping with him. I hated lying, but telling him that what we'd done was mind-blowing was too risky. I had to cover for myself and for him. I was his P.R. representative after all.
“It was fun," I said slowly, hesitating, "But it wasn't professional. I can’t mess this job up. I need it too badly." Thinking of Camille, I winced inwardly.
“Alright, alright, just relax,” Hunter said, putting up his hands. “We’ll be on our best behavior from now on. You’re right, it meant nothing.”
