Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  "What's so funny?" Hunter tucks her hair behind her ears. His eyes are directly trained on hers.

  Bee shakes her head, bites her lips, and replies, "Nothing. Nothing at all." She begins to stroke him, her hands gripping him hard. He feels silky and slightly sticky from their previous bouts. This is what real sex feels like. Dirty and gritty and fun. Unlike those she's had with Perry. He would make her shower before sex, even though she knows, and he knows, that she takes great care of her body. And afterwards, Perry would cleanse himself of her, taking long hot showers on his own. Blanche wonders idly if Perry has done the same exact things with the other women he has slept with.

  Hunter's rough fingers on her cheeks take her back to the present, to him. She blinks at him and smiles.

  "Where did you go, babe? You have that look in your eyes."

  Shame washes over her as she's caught thinking of another man while she has her hands over Hunter. "It's nothing."

  "That's the second time you replied with that." Hunter stills her hands from stroking. He intertwines them with his own, and brings them up to his lips. "It's you and me here, Blanche. Just you and me. No one else."

  Bee nods. "I know." She spreads kisses the top of his chest, following words in Latin tattooed on his skin. One day, she hopes to ask him about all of them.

  Hunter tucks a finger under her chin and guides her face up into a tilt. He breathes against the seam of her lips before licking them open and once again, tasting her. Before she can pull him deeper, he ends the kiss.

  "Do you want to talk or sleep?"

  Blanche, gathering up all her courage, grinds her hips on Hunter's lap. "I want to do this."

  "You're insatiable." He follows the line with a gentle laugh before kissing her again.

  Hunter guides her over him, lifting her with his hands on her hips, then bringing her down inch by inch on him. With every movement he makes, every motion of hers he meets, his eyes do not leave hers. Hunter presses their foreheads together, their ragged breaths co-mingling with each other. His pace changes, as he acutely listens to her moans and mewls, and watches her chest rise and fall, her lips drifting apart, her head lolling back into one shattering climax.

  Blanche wraps her arms around his neck, crying out his name over the sweat-slicked skin of his shoulder. But she continues to dance her hips with him, circling in motion, swaying side to side with the rhythm of their thrumming heartbeat.

  "Hold on tight, baby," he asks her, as his actions turn frenzied and carry them over the edge, where heated cores and liquid lust meet them.

  They are both trembling once it's over. Spent and sated. For now.

  Blanche finally lets sleep wash over her as Hunter drags them down, laying under the sheets, tangled in each other's arms and legs. She adjusts herself so as not to squish her belly. Hunter fixes the sheets over them, wrapping them in desirable, sleepy warmth.

  "WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR breakfast?" Hunter asks Blanche after another mind-blowing sex. He's woken up to her lips wrapped around his cock. What better way to wake up? And what better way to offer appreciation than make his little nymph breakfast in bed?

  He admires her beauty, her dark mussed hair spread over the pillow, her lips reddened and plumped by his kisses, and her smooth skin shiny from the thin layer of sweat. Hunter traces a finger from the hollow of her chest, over the valley between her breasts, and stopping atop her slightly protruding belly. He follows that invisible line with feather light kisses, lingering a bit longer on her stomach.

  "I'm sorry I lied to you about the appointment," Bee's voice hitches at the word "lied".

  Hunter plucks stray hair off her cheek, then ghosts the back of his knuckle over the blushed cheek. "I don't blame you. I've been a prick. A complete asshole."

  "But you were right. You deserve to be there too. The next one will be in a few weeks, before you go to Maine."

  Hunter lies on his back, folding his hands under his head. She hasn't answered his request about going to meet his parents. He doesn't know if he should. Things are good right now, so good. If he asks, will it ruin his chances with Blanche again?

  She props her head up with a bent arm, walking her fingers overtop his abs. The tickle sends tingles farther down, awakening him again.

  "I think I should go with you...to meet the rest of your family."

  What's that? Did she say yes? Did she just read his mind? Hunter turns to her, mouth opened in shock. "You will?"

  "Yes, if..."

  "If?"

  Blanche bites her bottom lip and looks away. "If you come to dinner with me tonight to meet my mother."

  Her mother? The one Bee's friend, Trisha seemed to have been terrified of. "It's only fair, isn't it? I meet your mom, and you meet my parents."

  "Really? You'd do it?" Before he can answer, Bee throws herself at him, kissing him senseless.

  "Babe, I have to make you breakfast." Somehow he's able to dislodge himself from her long enough to hear her stomach growl in protest.

  "Waffles. I want waffles."

  "Waffles it is." He lets his face relax and lets the smile spread. He's happy. This is what happy people do. They make love to the woman they adore, agree to meet the parent and whip up some delicious waffles.

  OVER THE WAFFLE MAKER, Hunter can't help but feel the tug in his gut. Anxiety has kicked in. It isn't there when he calls a sleepy Red and tells her that he’s not coming into work that night. Red doesn't even ask for an explanation, but he offers one anyway, telling his friend that Blanche has asked him to meet her mother. Red assures him he'll do fine, but wishes him good luck before ending the call. He has never had a proper girlfriend, never had to meet anyone's parents. He's met Red's grandmother, but he and Red are only friends. What if Blanche's mother dislikes him?

  Surely she will agree that he's better than Bee's ex who beat her.

  That other thought grinds in his gut. What kind of a man lays a hand on someone so beautiful and tender like Blanche? Or any woman for that matter?

  The only noise he can hear is the popping of his jaw, when he feels fingers creeping up his shirt. Hunter eases his clench as he takes Bee's hand and brings it to his lips. "Why did you leave the bed? I was going to bring this to you."

  "You're so sweet. I was feeling lonely." He let her hand go and Blanche immediately trails over his body. She presses herself against him, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his lips.

  "Tell me about your ex."

  Blanche pushes away from him, her face displaying a myriad of emotions. Shock, sadness, then fear.

  "What about him?"

  The beeping of the waffle maker interrupts them. Hunter turns his attention back to the machine, lifts the lid and picks up the golden waffle. He places it on a plate with sliced strawberries and bananas and pours syrup all over it.

  Blanche frowns at the plate offered to her. "I'm not hungry anymore."

  "Babe, you are. You have to eat. You can't be skipping meals." Then he remembers the dinner he's left on the stove. He saw the bowl on her dresser, knew that she's snuck out of the bedroom at some point last night and has eaten pasta. "Please, sit and eat."

  When she doesn't make a move, staring down at her feet, he gently picks her up and plops her down on one of the stools by the small kitchen island. He enjoys her little squeal. Hunter takes the plate and offers it to her again. "I'll make some coffee. Decaf for you, missy."

  She still doesn't move but he can tell she wants to eat. She's looking at the waffle and fruit plate like how she looks at him when she wants to be ravished. Hunter tilts her chin up with a finger and plants a chaste kiss on her lips. "Okay, babe. We won't talk about him today, but we will one day. When you're ready." She smiles and nods. "But we do have to talk."

  "I know. And we should get a new couch." Blanche picks up her fork and points at the empty space in the living room.

  "We can do that after breakfast," he suggests, moving to the cupboards and taking out items for coffee.

  "Nope, after breakfast, we
can take a shower and talk baby names."

  "Baby names? I was hoping you'd be fine with Hunter Junior."

  The fork with a piece of waffle and strawberry clatters onto the plate. "You cannot be serious."

  Hunter crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. "Do I look like I'm kidding?" Seriousness plasters on his face. Blanche quirks an eyebrow at him and purses her lips. Hunter throws his head back, relaxes his arms and laughs. He strides back to her and kisses her again. He can do that all day long and not feel sated. He loves kissing her, teasing her, making her moan and scream her name. "Of course, I'm kidding. I wouldn't do that to our child." Best yet, he loves saying those words "our child".

  This—in the warmth of a woman he admires and adores, laughing with her, feeling all her senses come alive, sharing with her—is where he's meant to be. It has finally come for him. The feeling of belonging. The feeling of home. The feeling that has so eluded him for so long. And he vows to himself, and silently to Blanche that he will delight in and cherish it as long as she lets him.

  Even if her mother dislikes what she will see before her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  They walk hand in hand, whispering secrets to each other, laughing at the other's jokes, and pausing every so often to kiss and nuzzle. If people stop and watch, they may say that this couple is completely in love.

  But Blanche knows better. Love isn't in the picture at all. Lust is, and so is desire. Not love. Not yet. She hasn't crossed off the possibility.

  To say that she doesn't enjoy Hunter's shows of affection would be a lie. She likes the way he touches his nose with hers, and how he kisses her top lip first then her bottom lip before giving her a complete kiss she can feel down the back of her knees. Bee is also appreciative of how Hunter keeps a hand or a finger on her at all times. And when he's too far away, he sears her with his gaze.

  Every now and then, Bee finds herself blushing, having to fan herself as memories filter into her mind. Memories of how Hunter's body is taut and soft all the same, flushed against her, of how thrilling little nibbles turn into blazing kisses on her fired-up skin, of how he fills and stretches her to the brim, causing her to move to the edges of insanity and bliss.

  She never knew sex could be so much fun, or so devilishly good. She realizes now how much passion lacked between her and Perry. Although it isn't a surprise, since Perry is only concerned with himself.

  Even though they agreed that they should start the day early, sex after breakfast with her propped on the stool, soaked under the shower, and back in the bed have delayed them. No matter, they simply have a sofa to choose, grab a quick lunch, head back to their apartment (and have sex again, she's hoping), before they meet her mother.

  Oh, her mother. How can she explain Reyna to Hunter? How does she tell him that her mother has acted more like her agent, instead of someone maternal or shares DNA with her? Bee secretly delights on how Reyna will react to how Hunter looks, and talks, or what he does for a living. A tattoo artist. It's almost laughable how much of a contrast Hunter is to Perry.

  Bee can only make guesses on how much Hunter is paid. The apartment isn't much of a symbol of his wealth. She doesn't know how he gets to the studio. But seeing as how he works an incredible amount of time, she suspects Hunter isn't well off at all. She's fine with his state, of course, but she supposed they would eventually have the money talk since they're about to raise a child together.

  Pausing in front of a chocolate brown leather sofa, she's amazed that only now does she accept and can see Hunter as a father. Her head tilts up to stare at him, a few feet away talking to a man. He smiles at her right away. Maybe their baby will have his smile.

  The chatter around her brings her back to her goal. They are here to replace the sofa Hunter threw out because he knew she couldn't stand the reminder it brings her.

  Bee expects Hunter to take her to one of those big box or budget furniture stores, instead, they find themselves in an upscale store in the Meatpacking District, where the selections are varied and striking to look at but too exorbitantly priced that they don't even display the price. Hunter has asked her to pick whatever she wants. She worries that her ingrained previous lifestyle will take effect. What if she chooses something he can't afford? And what does she really know how much sofas should cost?

  Bee continues to walk around the store, contemplating on what she knows and doesn't. Then, she sees it, a fabric three-seater, which combines comfort and style. Her fingers run over it.

  Even before he makes his presence known, she feels Hunter behind her. An electric tug between her legs. He wraps his hands around her, and rubs her belly, while he nuzzles her neck. Her hand raises and tickles the side of his cheek. When he presses harder against her, the heat pools in her core as she feels his erection.

  "Did you pick one yet?" Hunter asks, nibbling the edge of her ear.

  "I like this one," she replies with a wave of a hand.

  All she hears is the hum of his throat as Hunter continues to lick and nip at her neck and shoulder.

  "Hunter, people are watching." She isn't entirely sure if they are, nor does she care but it may take her a while to get used to this much PDA.

  His hips tilts forward, touching her ass. "Then they'll get quite a show, won't they?"

  Her eyes roll behind her lids. "I like this one." She faces him, wraps her hands around his neck to bring his lips closer to hers. "Let's buy this, then go home." His stiff cock pokes at her stomach.

  "Lunch. We still have lunch. I have to feed you first."

  Blanche looks up to his hooded eyes, irises dilated, filled with want. "We can skip lunch."

  "No, you need to eat." He sighs, closes his eyes and gives them a bit of breathing space. Not once has she ever thought that she can ever affect a man this much, and not anyone like Hunter. When he looks like he's recovered, adjusting himself inside his jeans, he smiles at her. Then he raises a hand and signals at the man he was talking to earlier. The two men nod in agreement.

  "Let's go." Hunter takes her hand in his.

  She pulls back. "Wait. Aren't we going to buy a sofa?"

  "Yeah, it's done. Lets have lunch. A quick one."

  Is that how people usually buy sofas? Blanche wonders. But the tug of desire within her is fired up. Hunter won't let her skip lunch; she'll just have to have him for dessert.

  WHEN THEY STEP INTO their apartment, their hands all over each other. Her hand unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down past his hips.

  "Relax, babe, we're home now," Hunter reminds her, as she lifts her hands so he can tug off her dress.

  "No time." She attacks his lips, neck and chest again, biting and licking. "We have two hours before we see my mother."

  Hunter moans as Blanche grasps his erection with both hands. "Shit, babe, you're on fire."

  A giggle bubbles up from her throat, music to his ears. She walks backwards, and he can't help but follow her since her hands won't leave his cock alone. When the back of her legs hit the coffee table, she releases his bottom lip and turn around, ready to bend forward. Then she sees it. The new sofa.

  "It's here? How did it get here so fast?" Blanche looks at him with wonderment over her shoulder.

  He can't even believe that she's picked one of the four sofas he has designed himself. All he had to do was have a quick chat with Bruce at the store, then wait for her to choose. An agreement was made that the furniture will be delivered even before he and Blanche get back home. He wonders how she'll react when he tells her that it is his own design? More importantly, will she be willing to christen the sofa?

  "Did you make a shady deal with the owner at the store?" she kids, a smile tickling her lips.

  He kisses that tickle. "Yes. Now, how about I bend you over the sofa?" He pushes her panties aside, thrilled to find her soaking wet and ready. When he lifts his finger, it shines with her sweet nectar. Her eyes widen at the sight of it, and she bites her lips, then she releases a jagged exhale when he licks h
is finger clean. "Sweet like honey."

  That did it. She jumps him, pawing at his chest and arms. Her legs grip his waist, even as he lowers her to the sofa. "Now, Hunter, I want you now. I need to feel you."

  "Me too, babe, get ready." He pushes up and readies himself at her entrance, and before he slides into slicked heat, he recalls their first time. She's beautiful then and now. She's curvier around the hips from the pregnancy, and her breasts are definitely bigger, rounder even. Hunter finds her sexy as hell. And all his.

  He pushes in, and there is an immediate feel of shattering inside him. Blanches does this to him. He's ready to lose control. He's ready to lose everything for her, his sanity, maybe even his heart.

  THEY END UP ON THEIR sides, with him as big spoon. Larger than life spoon, compared to petite Blanche. She says she doesn't want to move. Neither does he.

  "I'm too comfortable. This is a great couch." Bee squirms her ass closer to him.

  "You did pick a good one." He smiles against her neck, blowing a warm breath and causing a spread of goose bumps on her skin. She wiggles again. "Babe, if you keep doing that we will never get out of here."

  Blanche exhales an enticing moan and stretches along the length of him. He holds onto her, arms circling her body, before he pecks at her shoulder.

  They dress in a rush, Blanche slipping into a red halter number and Hunter into a three-piece suit. Gone are the tattoos, covered in crisp white shirt and custom made charcoal grey silk-wool blend.

  Once she steps out of the bathroom, having taken the time to apply a touch of makeup and fix her hair into a loose chignon, he catches her eyes through the full-length mirror he's in front of. The striking color enhances her beauty, hugging her new curves, and framing her flawless skin. Her gaze sweeps over his whole form. If the slight hitch in her breath and the capture of her bottom lip are anything to go by, he knows she likes what she sees.